


A Time For Every Season

by AmalynnJon



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3859831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalynnJon/pseuds/AmalynnJon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes that takes place after the events of Grady that showcase the progression of Daryl and Carol's relationship told from Carol's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Time to Mourn

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first TWD fanfic. 
> 
> Big thanks to Jen for offering to beta this for me.

_There is a time for everything,_

_and a season for every activity under the heavens:_

_a time to be born and a time to die,_

_a time to plant and a time to uproot,_

_a time to kill and a time to heal,_

_a time to tear down and a time to build,_

_a time to weep and a time to laugh,_

_a time to mourn and a time to dance,_

_a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,_

_a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,_

_a time to search and a time to give up,_

_a time to keep and a time to throw away,_

_a time to tear and a time to mend,_

_a time to be silent and a time to speak,_

_a time to love and a time to hate,_

_a time for war and a time for peace_

_-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8_

_**A Time to Mourn** _

Carol sat in the back of the box truck wedged between pillows and blankets that the group had scrounged together, despite her protests that it was not necessary.

She leaned her head back against the wall of the truck, her movement sending a severe ache down her left side causing her to wince. The pain medication they had given her at Grady was starting to wear off.

"Mind if I take a look," Sasha asked, leaning over her, concern evident in her features.

Carol nodded her head in consent, lifting her shirt, exposing her black and blued side. Sasha's fingers gently poked the bruises and a sharp pain jolted through her rib cage making her hiss.

"Sorry," Sasha quietly mumbled, her hand giving Carol's a quick squeeze before pulling away.

"The people at Grady gave us some codeine to help with the pain," she said, searching through the duffel bag, humming in victory when she found the bottle.

"No," Carol shook her head, "I'm fine," she insisted. She needed to be alert, ready to fight if need be. She was already weak because of her injuries, once again a liability to the group and taking the codeine would only serve to render her even more useless. "We need to keep it in case someone else needs it, in case – of the worst," she trailed off.

"Carol," Tyreese's deep baritone made her look up, "Twenty-four hours ago you were in a coma,  _you_  need these," he gestured to the pill bottle.

"I'm fine," she repeated, trying to sound convincing. She needed to remain alert, she needed to be able to protect the others if a dire situation arose.

Sasha sighed softly, "At least try to sleep then."

Carol nodded and closed her eyes, the desire to shut the pain out was overwhelming, but she knew sleep wouldn't come. There were too many unwanted images that haunted her when her eyelids came to rest. Karen and David, Mika, Lizzie, Sophia – She squeezed her eyes tighter, attempting to clear her brain of the painful memories. Sounds of a gunshot echoing, of blood spattering and of Beth falling to the ground invaded her thoughts. Dead. Beth was dead. A new nightmare to add to the never ending cycle. She swallowed back a sob but was unable to stop the one tear that escaped. She had been right, they really couldn't save anyone anymore.

The group had not been given much time to mourn. The threat from Dawn's group had still been a strong possibility and they were forced to continue on their way. Maggie had clung to her sister, the young woman's sobs had torn at Carol's heart. It had taken Glenn, Rick and Daryl to pull her from Beth and get her off the ground into the other van that they had found. Beth's death was difficult for them all but it had hit Maggie and Daryl particularly hard. Hearing Daryl's anguished sob back in the hospital was not something Carol wanted her thoughts to linger on. He wasn't one to display his emotions very often but when he did the result was heartbreaking.

The back door of the truck opened abruptly causing Carol to jump. Her eyes landed on Daryl and she watched as he climbed in. She was surprised to see him, had figured that he would remain in the vehicle that carried Beth, keep guard over her until she was laid to rest. She knew he felt responsible for the young girl, yet here he was.

His face was pale and his eyes red , he looked worn,empty, and she felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over her at the devastation that lingered in his eyes. He closed the door quickly, making sure it was secure before his hand banged the wall. The engine immediately roared to life and they all jolted as the truck moved forward.

He made his way towards her, his eyes scanning her body rapidly, his brow furrowed in worry.

"I'm fine," she once again tried to reassure.

His eyes flicked to hers and he grunted, a sound that made it clear that he didn't believe her.

His head turned to Sasha, seeking a second opinion from the closest person they had to a medic. Her eyes darted briefly to Carol before answering Daryl's unasked question.

"She should take the codeine," she advised,shaking the pill bottle, "It will help her rest more comfortably. She needs to rest."

Carol frowned, "I don't need to take anything, I'm fi-"

"Take the damn pills," his voice was gruff, grouchy and irritated to the untrained ear, but the slight quiver in his tone and the pleading, desperate look he shot her told a different story. Their gazes remained locked for a few moments, various emotions passed through Daryl's eyes, emotions that mirrored the turmoil that was flickering through her heart.

She reached out a hand towards Sasha, relenting, "One." She needed to maintain some control over this situation, but with Daryl here she felt more at ease, she knew the others would be protected if they ran into trouble on the road.

Daryl had a canteen at the ready, she took it from him, swallowing the pill in one fluid motion.

"Sleep," he said, his voice just above a whisper, his hand holding hers a beat longer than necessary as she handed back the water.

She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. The last thing she remembered was feeling Daryl's shoulder bumping hers as he settled in next to her.

* * *

"Carol."

"Carol."

She could hear her name being called amidst the fog, it was distant and muffled but she knew it was calling her name, knew it was a voice that made her want to reach out and cling to it and never let go.

"Carol." It was closer now.

Her eyes fluttered open and she squinted needing to grow accustomed to the light. It was still, there was no roar of the engine, no movement from the others that had been in the back of the truck. She took a deep breath as things began to become more focused. The earthy scent of dirt and pine invaded her senses.  _Daryl._

Fully awake, she tilted her head, her gaze met piercing blue eyes. At some point her head had fallen on his shoulder, the realization made her pull back, startled.

"Easy," he drawled, gently grasping her elbow.

She blinked her eyes, still disoriented. "Where is everyone?"

"At the r'sort," he explained, his eyes shifting downward.

"Oh," she whispered.

Maggie had wanted to bury Beth at a hiking resort located 3 hours outside of Atlanta. It was a place where they had vacationed several times as children and had been a favourite of Beth's, a place where the Greene family had many happy memories.

"Y'alright?" Daryl's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Yeah," she breathed, shaking her head to clear it, she turned to look at Daryl, "I'm OK."

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

She sighed softly, "I have five fractured ribs – I'm sore Daryl – but it's getting better – I promise." If only the emotional scars would be able to heal as easily.

He regarded her for a moment longer, searching, and finally he nodded, the movement quick and sharp.

"Building's clear. Come on," he gripped her arm more firmly, assisting her to to her feet. Every bone in her body protested and she winced when pain pulsated in her abdomen. Daryl put his arm around her, shouldering her weight. When they reached the door, he jumped out of the truck and extended out his arms.

She paused, staring down at him, there was something in his look, in the way he contemplated her, that had her heart rate increasing. It was a feeling she experienced occasionally in his presence, a feeling that was often foreign to her and stupid for her to even dwell on, especially at a time like this.

"Carol, you OK?" Carl came into view, a rifle hanging off his shoulder, his expression concerned.

Her head snapped towards him, "Yes," she was quick to reassure, "I'm – I'm fine Carl."

She stepped down into Daryl's arms, his hands rested on her waist, gently maneuvering her to the ground doing his best to avoid her ribs. She ignored the heat rising up her neck and kept her gaze on anything but the man in front of her.

She stumbled slightly when she was finally on the ground, her legs still numb from disuse, both Daryl and Carl grabbed an elbow, steadying her.

Her hand reached out to tap the brim of Carl's hat offering him a small smile of gratitude before the three of them began to make their way towards the resort.

"Carol?" Carl's voice broke the silence.

She glanced over at him, humming in acknowledgement.

"I'm really glad you're OK," he said.

She felt tears threatened at his confession but cleared her throat warding them off. She smiled at him not trusting herself to speak.

"You were like a warrior or something, getting us all out of Terminus," he said, his eyes full of awe. "And you kept Judith safe – I never did thank you for that. Thank you."

"Tyresse -" she began, trying to downplay any role she had in Judith's safe return. It  _had_  been Tyreese who saved her from the prison.

Carl wasn't having any of it, "No," he interrupted, "Thank  _you_."

Before she could respond, Carl continued, "We need to learn to say the important things to people right away. There might not be a tomorrow. You'd think we'd know that by now, wouldn't you?" He offered her a small, sad smile before turning to look forward once more.

His words hit a little too close to home and she chanced a glance at Daryl. Her eyes widened when she found him watching her. Their gaze held and soon she found it difficult to breath. She broke eye contact, glancing down to the ground and focused on getting her breathing back under control.

* * *

They had buried Beth that afternoon, Father Gabriel proceeded over the small funeral making Beth's death seem more real, more final than all the others, if that even made sense. Maggie had stood stoic, staring off into space, the ever present fire that burned in her eyes, extinguished. It had crushed Carol seeing Maggie like that, it was a feeling she knew all too well herself.

Daryl had stood beside her, unable to stay still, constantly moving his feet and fidgeting. She knew he had wanted to escape, desperate to mourn on his own and away from prying eyes. After Maggie had laid a rose on Beth's grave and Father Gabriel had said the final prayer, Daryl had fled into the woods, mumbling something about going hunting. Carol had watched him retreat, unable to follow because of her injuries, but she knew he needed the time alone.

It was now well into the evening and Daryl had still not arrived back at the resort. Anxiousness rolled in the pit of her stomach. She hated when Daryl was out more than a couple of hours, but in the state he had been in – it had her nerves even more on edge.

She sat on the sofa along with Sasha and that kid from the hospital, Noah. Aside from Daryl, the only ones missing from the group assembled in the main sitting room were Maggie, Glenn, Tara, and Rosita. Her knee bounced nervously while she listened to the others discuss their options for the future. Rick was knelt on the floor, a map laid on the small table, scouring for safer locales for them all to stay.

"If we travel north," his finger traveled along the map, "we could make our way to Virginia in a few days."

The creak of the door opening caused everyone to turn their head. Daryl entered, his crossbow slung across his back. Carol sighed in relief, the tension easing somewhat from her shoulders.

"What's goin' on?" Daryl drawled, his gaze drifting over everyone and finally resting on the map.

"Just discussing where to head to next," Rick answered, "Noah's from Richmond – thought we'd go with him and decide what to do then. Washington might not be the cure we were hoping for but it's still the nation's capitol, it has to be well protected I figure."

Daryl nodded, setting his crossbow against the fire place before leaning over to look at the map.

"About a five hour drive to Virginia or fifteen days walk, give or take a few days. Figure we'll drive as much as we can," Rick continued. "What do you think?"

Daryl rubbed his chin, deep in thought, "Good as plan as any," he mumbled.

"OK," Rick stood, "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

Carol groaned inwardly, not relishing the thought of setting out so soon. Her body was slowly improving but a couple more days of rest would have gone a long way in the healing process. Staying a couple more days would have also offered Maggie, Daryl, and all of them time to grieve in peace, well, in as much peace as they would receive in this world they now lived.

"'Scuse me?" Daryl muttered, "In the mornin'?" Carol's head snapped up at the anger laced in his tone.

"We have least enough food for four days, a pond out back. How 'bout we rest for more than one damn day?"

Rick watched Daryl for a moment, his brow furrowed, "We need to keep moving," he said, slowly. "Those people – from Grady – if they're tracking us...we're sitting ducks staying here."

"They ain't comin' after us," Daryl said, his tone firm, confident in his statement.

"Daryl's right man," Noah intervened, "with Dawn no longer in charge. They won't be coming after us. They have no reason to."

Rick shook his head, "A lot of you thought we were safe once we escaped from Terminus, and look what happened there."

"That ain't the same," Daryl said.

"That isn't a hunch I'm willing to place my family's lives on," Rick grabbed the map off the table folding it, clearly done with discussing the issue any further.

"Your family," Daryl scoffed, his eyes igniting with a fresh anger, "Always 'bout you an' yours."

Rick turned to face Daryl, his eyes narrowing, "What the hell does that mean?"

"Means you don't give two shits 'bout the rest of us, our families."

Rick's eyes squinted, seemingly confused by Daryl's accusation, "You know that isn't true. Movin' on is what's best for the entire group."

Daryl shot forward aggressively towards Rick causing both Abraham and Tyresse to move in ready to intervene if necessary, "Maggie's mournin' an' needs time to get her shit together – we all do an' Carol -" Daryl's voice cracked with emotion on her name which made tears spring unexpected to her eyes, "Carol was hit by a fuckin' car five days ago. We can wait least two more god-damn days."

Carol moved to sit on the edge of the sofa, she couldn't remember the last time she had seen Daryl this upset, especially with Rick.

"I'll be alright Daryl," she reassured, trying to ease some of the tension that had filled the room.

"No!" Daryl growled, not even turning to address her, his hard gaze remained locked on Rick. "If  _Rick_ wants to leave – fine, we're stayin'."

The men stood staring at one another, neither backing down. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, it was Rick who finally gave in, "Anyone else have any opinions?" he asked, his eyes flicking around the room.

It was quiet for a moment, each individual weighing their options, not wanting to set either man off. Eventually the majority agreed with Daryl, stay a couple more nights and then move on.

Rick nodded his head, relenting, "Two days and then we head out," he growled, he did not seem pleased with the decision. He turned toward Michonne, his arms reaching out to take Judith.

Carol observed Daryl carefully, his hands were balled into fists and his jaw was clenched, anger still radiated off of him. She could tell there was still something bothering him, that this had been about so much more than just being against Rick's decision to leave the resort right away.

"Three hostages," he muttered.

Rick's arms dropped back to his side and he turned to face Daryl once again. "Excuse me?"

"We had three hostages an' then y'had to go all Rambo on that guys ass."

Rick stepped forward, "That  _guy_  knocked Sasha unconscious and was headed to warn the others at Grady. He would have ruined our chances of getting Carol and Beth out of there."

"He didn't make it though, y'had him, it could've been an even trade."

"You blaming me for what happened to Beth?" Rick asked, his tone dark, hurt.

Daryl stepped towards him and Carol could see Abraham and Tyreese once again moving in. Everyone watched wide-eyed, surprised by this animosity between the two men. Carol's heart hammered in her chest seeing Daryl like this, a wild animal lashing out. It had been a long time since he behaved in this manner. She longed to reach out to him, to calm him, but felt useless in that moment.

"What happened at the hospital was a tragedy, unforeseen by us all. It was no one's fault," Sasha said, doing her best to ease the tension.

"It's been a long day," Abraham said, reaching out and gripping Rick by the shoulder, "we should all get some rest."

Rick wasn't ready to end it, he jerked away from Abraham, "If we had gone in like I had planned-"

"With guns a blazin'?" Daryl cut in, his voice raising. "That could have gotten 'em  _both_  killed. Like I said, y'don't give two shits 'bout anyone but your own." Daryl turned away from Rick, shaking his head.

"I cared about Beth," Rick's voice hitched, his emotion over her death evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, "I care about Carol."

Daryl snapped at that, storming towards Rick. He grabbed the lapels of his shirt, roughly pulling him towards his face. "The hell yo do!" Daryl snarled.

Tyreese grabbed a hold of Daryl's arms and pulled him off the sheriff. Daryl struggled but was unable to escape Tyreese's grip. He pointed his finger at Rick, jabbing the air forcefully, "You left her out there all 'lone to fend for herself," he cried.

Carol softly gasped, some of the others looked confused not sure what Daryl was talking about, but she could tell by the look of guilt that flashed in Rick's eyes that he knew exactly to what Daryl was referring, her banishment from the prison.

Daryl stood staring at Rick, his breath heavy. He then glanced over to her making brief eye contact before his eyes darted to the floor, she could tell he hadn't meant to say what he did out loud. He pushed Tyresse off of him and quickly made his way to his crossbow, grabbed it and left, the door slamming behind him.

"What the hell was that about?" Abraham questioned to no one in particular.

Carol grabbed the edge of the sofa and pushed herself up. Rick's gaze settled on her as she limped toward him. When she went to pass him, her hand momentarily rested on his arm. It was a gesture to show him that what he had done to her was a thing of the past. It was not something she would be able to forget but it was something that she had forgiven. It would be hypocritical of her to hold a grudge when she had received forgiveness from Tyresse for all of her wrongdoings. His hand came up to cover hers, squeezing it before letting go, gratitude in his eyes. She ignored the stares of the others as she slowly followed after Daryl.

* * *

She stepped out on the porch, relief washing over her when she spotted Daryl's silhouette sitting on the steps, she had been concerned that he might have taken off to the comfort of the woods once more.

She pulled her blouse tighter around her attempting to ward off the slight chill that evening had brought. The stairs creaked under her weight giving away her presence but Daryl still continued to look out over the dark landscape. Carol could just make out the forms of Rosita and Tara by the treeline where they sat on watch.

"You should be restin'," he said.

"I needed some fresh air. Mind if I sit?"

He let out a soft grunt, Dixon speak for 'do whatever the hell you want'. She moved to sit but her body protested, her bones stiff and still painful.

"Can you give me a hand?" she asked quietly. Daryl was on his feet in an instant, his expression a mixture of worry and guilt.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his hand gripping her elbow as he helped lower her to a sitting position before sitting back down himself.

They sat in silence for awhile, their arms occasionally brushing. There were so many things unspoken between them and Carol didn't know even where to begin.

It was Daryl who spoke first, "Maggie couldn't even look at me today."

Carol turned to look at him, her heart breaking at how lost he looked.

"Maggie is mourning. She just lost Hershel and now Beth."

"Beth was my responsibility. I shouldn't've taken my eyes off of her, shouldn't've went to feed that damn dog." He shook his head, "There were so many god damn walkers -"

"This isn't your fault," she told him, her voice soft but firm.

Daryl sighed in frustration, "She never gave up fuckin' hope. I was such a bastard to her, had givin' up, but she just kept –," he sighed again, "God, life ain't fuckin' fair – takin' both Beth an' Sophia."

Her breath hitched at the sound of her baby's name.

"Must be fuckin' cursed," Daryl mumbled.

Carol grabbed his arm, pulling it, forcing him to look at her, "No. What happened to Beth, to – Sophia, that isn't on you. You did more for those girls-," she paused, tears filling her eyes as memories of an endless search, of a barn, and of her little girl, overwhelmed her. She gave her head a little shake before continuing, "It's like you said, life isn't fucking fair."

It was true, this world was a fucked up place and it always seemed to take everyone and thing that was truly good away from them.

"It should've been me."

She realized she must have have spoken her thought out loud when Daryl's head snapped up and turned to look at her, his eyes slightly crazed, "No!" he growled. "Don't say shit things like that, don't even think 'em."

"The things I've had to do," she whispered glancing down avoiding his eye contact, "I don't deserve-"

"Don't," he hissed, pained. "We've all done things." He lowered his chin to catch her eye, urging her to look at him once more, "You're the strongest person I know."

She shook her head, willing herself not to cry. She wasn't strong, it felt like at any moment she would fall apart, break into a million different pieces.

"I – I can't lose you too," he said, his tone soft and gruff with emotion.

Her breath caught in her throat at his words and her pulse quickened from the way he looked at her, from the pure need for her that poured out of him and she knew she couldn't unload her burdens on him tonight.

His bottom lip trembled, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Her hand itched to touch him, to not only offer him comfort but to receive comfort in return. She was unsure of how he would react to her touch. Back at the prison they had seemed to enter a place where her touch, her flirting, was something he welcomed. Now, so much had happened and they were both different, changed. Her mind drifted to their reunion in the woods. The way he had ran to embrace her, his relief evident in the way he had clung to her, freely touching her on basic instinct. She had never felt so –  _loved_.

Her decision made, she raised her hand and threaded her fingers in his hair. He immediately leaned into her touch, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. The sound unleashed her own tears and she rested her forehead against his temple. She lost track of how long they sat like that, quiet and leaning against one another, mourning the young girl they had loved, but yet grateful that they still had one another.

It was finally Carol who broke the silence, her fingers still tangled in the strands of his hair. "You need a haircut,"she murmured.

Daryl snorted and pulled back, his eyes flicking to hers, a hint of amusement in their depths.

"Come on," he mumbled, "It ain't that bad, have y'seen Rick's beard?"

Carol barked out a laugh and covered her mouth with her free hand. His lips twitched and for the first time in a long while, she felt a bit better. There was still a lot of emotional baggage she needed to figure out, feelings she needed to thoroughly process but she could finally see a little light at the end of the tunnel and for now that was good enough.


	2. A Time to Laugh

****

**_**A Time to Laugh** _ **

She pushed the shirt under the water, scrubbing and twisting it, attempting to rid the garment of any traces of laundry soap that still lingered.

 

The group had ended up staying at the resort for three more days, resting and mourning. Daryl and Rick had made amends, but an underlying tension still remained and Carol felt somewhat responsible for it. Once they made their leave, they decided to travel on back roads after finding the main roads too congested to navigate. They had just made it to the border of North Carolina when the truck had gotten, not one, but two flat tires. They had all piled in the van but only made it a couple of miles before they were out of gas. They then walked across the border and had found a small hunting shack where they were now staying for the night. Surprisingly the shack had been stocked with laundry detergent and a washing tub. Tired of feeling useless, Carol had decided to do some laundry while some of the others were out on a run to a nearby village and Daryl was out looking for food in the woods.

 

The water was cool against her skin as she dipped another shirt below the surface, it was an unseasonably warm day and she was enjoying the sunshine and the monotonous of the chore.

 

“Want some help?” Carol turned, surprised to see Maggie.

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“How are you?” Maggie asked quietly, sitting and taking the shirt she handed her.

 

“Better. I'm healing.”

 

“Good. I'm glad.”

 

“How are you?” Carol asked. The poor thing had hardly spoken or eaten since Beth's death.

 

Maggie sighed, “These last few days have been a blur.” She laid the shirt down on the rocks and stared out over the pond. “I should have been there,” her voice cracked, “I was so focused on Glen and then Eugene -” she trailed off

 

“You couldn't have known.”

 

“She was my sister,” she cried. She turned to Carol, “How can I – how can I go on?”

 

“You just – do – ,” she thought back to Sophia, how losing her baby had made her want to curl in a ball and disappear from the world, but she had known Sophia wouldn't have wanted that, “Beth would want you to.”

 

Tears filled Maggie's eyes, “Can you tell me Carol, was she OK? Was she scared there at the hospital?”

 

Carol grabbed her hand, squeezing it, thinking back to her last moments with Beth, “She was – she was Beth – bright – hopeful – she saved my life. And she was _so_ happy that you were alive, that you and Glen were well.”

 

A small sob escaped Maggie's mouth.

 

“Oh sweetie,” Carol moved to hug her, wrapping her arms around the woman's small frame. Maggie's head immediately fell on her shoulder.

 

“It's going to be hard,” Carol said, “damn hard. I won't lie to you. After I lost Sophia, I didn't know if I could go on, but I pushed myself. I wanted to live, to survive and to be better, be someone she could be proud of, be the person I should have always been for her. You're strong Maggie, you will get through this, for her and for yourself.”

 

“I feel so lost,” she whispered into Carol's neck.

 

“I know.”

 

The two sat holding each other, Carol running a hand through Maggie's hair doing her best to give her some comfort.

 

Eventually Maggie pulled back, a small smile on her face, “I better get back before Glen sends out the National Guard.”

 

Carol softly chuckled, cupping Maggie's cheek.

 

“Plus,” Maggie continued, her gaze drifting over Carol's shoulder, “looks like you have other company.”

 

Carol's brow furrowed and she turned to look where Maggie had indicated, her eyes landing on Daryl standing awkwardly, fidgeting with his crossbow.

 

“I'll talk to ya later.” Maggie leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, “Thank you,” she whispered, before standing and heading back to the shack. When she passed Daryl she reached out to squeeze his arm and Carol could see the tension drain from Daryl's shoulders at the words Maggie spoke to him, could see the relief in his eyes.

 

She turned back to the laundry not wanting to eavesdrop on the much needed moment happening between the two behind her.

 

It wasn't long and she heard Daryl approach, he set his crossbow down on the rocks and sat beside her, his legs stretched out in front of him, silently looking out over the pond.

 

“You weren't out long,” she said wringing out the shirt she had just rinsed.

 

“Got a couple rabbits, few squirrels.”

 

Her stomach rumbled at the very notion of having some meat for dinner. She hummed, “Never thought I would be this excited for squirrel,” she caught his eye and grinned.

 

The corner of his mouth lifted, “If y'play your cards right, y'might get a whole squirrel all yourself,” His eyes held a spark of mischievousness. It was a look she hadn't seen from him in a long time and her heart soared.

 

She put her hand on her chest and batted her eyelashes, “All my own? Why Daryl Dixon, you sweet talker.”

 

Daryl snorted in amusement and Carol's smile grew. Sitting here, like this with Daryl, she felt a sense of peace. She knew in this world it could never last but she was going to savour every moment of it when she was able.

 

“You and Maggie good?” she asked, turning to scrub at a pair of Carl's pants in the washing tub.

 

“Yeah. You?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.”

 

She slide forward to rinse the pants in the pond. Once done, she stood, twisting the fabric in her hands to get rid of the access water. She tightened her grip and winced, her shoulder was seizing up again. She groaned in frustration. The pain had been, thankfully, almost non existent for the past couple of days, but now her damn muscles would occasionally tighten which rendered her shoulder useless.

 

Daryl was on his feet immediately, “Y'alright? Where's Tara and Rosita? Y'shouldn't be doin' this.” He took the pants from her and tossed them down on the rocks.

 

“I'm fine, it just gets stiff every now and then. It's better if I keep moving – happens less,” she said, rubbing the offending shoulder.

 

Daryl eyed her wearily, “Still,” he mumbled, “Y'should be restin'.”

 

“I need to do _something_. I was going stir crazy being cooped up. Plus, Rosita and Tara are out teaching Eugene how to use a gun.”

 

His eyes widened, “Why the hell are they givin' him a gun? Are they tryin' to kill us?”

 

“Be nice,” she scolded, smiling at his alarm. “He wants to learn how to take care of himself. It wasn't that long ago when I didn't know how to shoot a gun either,” she reminded him.

 

“And now you're fuckin' Annie Oakley.” Pride was evident in his tone and she relished the praise.

She turned to face him raising her eyebrows, she hadn't figure Daryl as one to be interested in famous gunslingers.

 

He shrugged his shoulders, “When my ole man wasn't a drunkin' asshole, he was really into that wild west shit.”

 

“You never know,” she said, “maybe Eugene's the next Wyatt Earp.”

 

“Pfft,” he snorted, rolling his eyes.

 

She smiled and continued to rub at her shoulder, doing her best to ease the stiff muscles. Her other arm didn't quite have full flexibility yet because of her injuries and she was finding it quite difficult to massage the area.

 

Daryl cleared his throat, “Do y'want me to – um – uh -” he gestured his hand to her shoulder, his eyes darting from it and then back to her eyes.

 

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. He moved towards her and her pulse picked up pace as he inched closer. He moved behind her and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath attempting to get her racing heart under control. She tensed when his hand gripped her shoulder but instantly relaxed when he began to massage, his other hand rested on her back, drawing soft circles with his thumb. His touch was so gentle that it brought tears to her eyes, she couldn't remember the last time when she had been touched quite like this before. Her mind drifted back to a memory of standing on top of a turned over truck in a prison yard. His touch had surprised her back then, he had always been one to shy away from physical contact, avoiding it at all costs, but his touches seemed to come with more frequency since they had been reunited after Terminus and it was that difference that had her stomach fluttering.

 

Despite her nerves, his ministrations felt good, they felt _really_ good. Her head lolled forward allowing him better access. He moved in closer, the heat of his body against her back had her feeling light headed. His pressure increased and he hit a particularly tender spot and she couldn't help the groan of pleasure that escaped past her lips.

 

Daryl's hand froze on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, d _amn it,_ she berated herself. She probably just succeeded in scaring him off, but to her surprise, after only a moment of hesitation, his hand continued to move.

 

“That better?” he asked gruffly, he sounded shaken.

 

She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his gaze, her pulse racing even more quickly at the intense expression she found there.

 

“Yes,” she breathed, turning around to face him completely. “Thank you.”

 

She watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed and chewed his bottom lip. His eyes flicked down to her lips and her breath hitched. She had thought about kissing Daryl many times, how it would feel, how he would taste, and there were many nights, alone in her prison cell, when she had whispered his name, her fingers working to relieve the tension that had built over time, but she knew she was foolish to entertain ideas of romance, of sexual interest on his part, of _love_ , especially in a world like this.

 

He licked his lips and his chest heaved in and out. Something was different now, she could feel it, and it made her nervous.

 

A gunshot echoed behind her and she yelped as Daryl's body flew at her tackling her to the ground, his body covering hers completely. The trees rustled and birds squawked as they escaped from the hostile intrusion in the forest. She watched Daryl scan the area, looking for the threat.

 

“Was that gunfire?” Carol whispered, her breath heavy with adrenaline and concern.

 

Daryl's eyes darkened and he growled in anger, his eyes narrowing in towards the treeline, “That fuckin' idiot,” he snarled.

 

She tilted her head back to look behind her and inwardly groaned. _Eugene_.

 

Daryl fumbled around clumsily in his attempt to get off of her, his anger clouding his judgement. It allowed her enough time to stand and grab his arm, preventing him from storming over to the scientist.

 

“What the hells wrong with you?” he yelled.

 

Eugene stood awkwardly, holding the gun he had just fired, his eyes wide – almost in shock. “Uh, I seemed to have miscalculated the ratio of aim and speed of flight.” Carol winced at the way Eugene flung the gun around while he spoke. “It was my wish to be in good favour once more by bringing back a palatable dinner for everyone to partake in,” he finished.

 

“Put the damn gun down 'fore you get us all killed,” Daryl growled.

 

Eugene paused and stared at the gun like he had forgotten he was even holding the thing.

 

“Eugene! What the hell?!” Rosita shouted sprinting towards him from the hunting shack, Tara close behind her. “I told you that you were not ready for bullets yet.” She grabbed the gun from his hands and he stuttered out the same explanation that he had just relayed to Daryl. She paid no attention to his excuses, scolding him as she dragged him back towards the shack.

 

“Sorry 'bout that,” Tara called over to them apologetically, “He gets a little too keen sometimes.”

 

Daryl grunted in annoyance, “Jus' keep a damn eye on 'im.”

 

He turned to face Carol once more, shaking his head, “Damn fool, he's goin' draw every walker for miles.”

 

Her brow lifted, “A Wyatt Earp he is not,” she mused.

 

Daryl snorted and they both laughed remembering their earlier conversation, the tension ebbing away.

 

“Y'ok? I fell on y'pretty hard,” his eyes examined her for discomfort.

 

“No harm done,” she reassured, offering him a small smile. “I haven't had that much - _action_ in a long time,” she teased.

 

His eyes darted to the ground, a ghost of a smile on his face, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. “Stop,” he drawled.

 

Carol smiled, this was familiar, this was comfortable - her teasing him, him shyly telling her to stop. She loved this about them, loved his timid smile, the way he would get flustered by her flirting. It was fun and it was easy but she couldn't stop thinking about them just minutes before, the charged looks, the sexual tension that had her heart pounding and her head swimming. They had lost so much, had had so many close calls, maybe it was time to take a leap, consequences be damned, who knew how much time they had left and if she had learned one thing from everything they had been through, she wanted more. She might not deserve it but god did she want it.

 

“What if I don't want to stop?” Her tone was serious, her meaning clear.

 

Daryl's head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Carol-,” his voice was gruff with emotion.

 

She took a deep breath, honesty was key. “I don't want to have any regrets Daryl.”

 

He stared at her his blue eyes sharp, searching her. They always said eyes were the window to your soul, so she allowed him a complete entrance to hers, standing their naked, vulnerable, baring every emotion.

 

He took a shaky breath and she could see a physical change take place. His eyes darkened and he stood taller. He shifted forward and her heart fluttered in anticipation. _Was this actually happening?_

 

She was trapped in his gaze, nothing else existed and she could only hear the hammering of her heart and her laboured breath echoing in her ears and then Daryl was falling.

 

She gasped as he slid down the rocks and landed with a large splash in the glistening depths of the pond. Within seconds he pushed through the surface of the water, sputtering and spitting, gasping for air.

 

She immediately knelt down, reaching for him to offer assistance, “Are you alright?” she asked.

 

He looked completely baffled, his head bobbing just above the surface, strands of his hair plastered to the side of his face. A bubble of laughter rose in her throat, he looked absolutely ridiculous. She couldn't hold it back and burst out laughing. She laughed and laughed, bending over, her hands on her thighs. She laughed until tears streamed down her face and she could hardly catch her breath.

 

“This isn't funny,” he mumbled.

 

“I – you -,” she attempted to speak, but chocked on another round of laughter. She hadn't laughed like this since she had been a teenager and she and her girlfriends had gotten drunk on cheap wine and had teepeed snobby Susie Jenkins house. She had forgotten how wonderful it was to laugh like this, the freedom it offered and so she embraced it, laughing even harder as Daryl cursed when he attempted to climb up the rocks but only succeeded in sliding back into the water

 

She had tried to contain her giggles as she and Daryl walked back to the shack, but Daryl's scowl, along with the squishing sound his shoes made with each step he took, had made it a difficult task.

 

She had finally cracked when Carl, back from the run, had taken in Daryl's wet attire and asked if he had went for a swim. Daryl had grumbled something incoherent under his breath and had stormed off leaving Carol in another fit of laughter and everyone else looking completely mystified.

 

Evening had come and Carol hadn't seen any sign of Daryl since his tumble into the pond. She knew now that he and Rick were on watch and she tried not to worry about the distance he had placed between them. She rolled out her bed roll, the others doing the same around her. The hunting shack only had one main room, it was tight, but at least it was warm and dry. She laid down, burrowing her head into the small pillow, her mind in overdrive. Maybe he had been embarrassed about that afternoon and having fallen into the pond during their heated moment or perhaps she had gone too far and he wasn't ready for any romantic entanglements...maybe it was _she_ who he wasn't interested in having a romance with. She sighed, closing her eyes, sleep was going to be difficult to come by.

 

A hour or two passed, the gentle snores and heavy breaths of those already in slumber resonated around the room. The door creaked open, footsteps and low voices signifying the switch of watch. She felt movement beside her and tensed when a body laid next to her. The familiar scent of Daryl filled her senses and caused her stomach to flip. She was on her side, her back to him and she internally debated whether to acknowledge his presence while he shifted around trying to get comfortable. _He was here_ – next to her, which meant he hadn't been scared off completely. She wished she knew how he felt. She could read him like a book on so many things, but on this, their relationship, he was much more guarded. Yes, he _had_ ran to her and embraced her in pure exhilaration when they had reunited and he _had_ been much more open since her return, but was he ready for the next step? Was she? She didn't want to turn the connection they shared into something awkward, something painful, but she knew that casual flirting and stolen glances were no longer enough. She needed to make sure they were alright though or she wouldn't get any sleep whatsoever. She mentally kicked herself, Good god Carol just say _something,_ she screamed.

 

“Next time someone gets wet, it had better be me,” her voice was low, just above a whisper, foreign to her own ears. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, mortified. _What the hell had that been?_ The heat of embarrassment consumed her. Her foolish words would have Daryl running for the hills for sure.

 

The silence was deafening. She needed to fix this error in judgement, apologize. She opened her mouth to speak but jolted, her mouth snapping closed, when his hand gripped her waist, his very touch burning through to her skin.

 

His breath was hot on her ear, “Don't make promises y'can't keep,” he drawled, sending a shiver down her spine and igniting a fire in the pit of her stomach. Change was coming and it had Carol's blood pumping.

 

 


	3. A Time to Weep

The house was eerily quiet, she gripped her knife tighter, ready to strike if need be. Daryl was a head of her, his bow at the ready, his eyes constantly scanning for any threats.

They had been traveling for two, maybe three weeks now. It had been a long and exhausting journey and everyone was on edge. There had been no time to stop and rest. It reminded her of the days before they had found the prison, always on the move, staying no more than one night in one location, supplies low. They were all miserable, constantly sniping at one another. It was essential that they found a place to set up for a few days, a home base to use to regain their strength and clear their heads, a place to just be still.

They had made it to Richmond but Noah's family were no longer there. The town had been in ruins and the boy had been beside himself with grief, the loss of Beth and the guilt he suffered over her death had broken him. It had been heartbreaking to watch and had helped stir the sorrow and pain in her own heart once again. Living on the road did not afford you the time to wallow in despair though, so she had pushed those feelings down and drudged onwards.

They decided to continue towards Washington since they were so close, see if it would afford them any sort of protection. They chill that clung in the air was a stark reminder, winter was on the horizon and they all knew a winter in Virginia would be a stark contrast to the winters they had faced in Georgia. It would be a new danger they were unequivocally unprepared for, another reason why shelter, a place to settle, was so important.

It was when they had seemed at their most desperate that a beacon of hope appeared. They had stumbled, literally, onto a gated community which had been hidden back in the forest. It looked to be completely untouched, a miracle in these times. A wooden wall surrounded the homes inside, strong enough to keep out walkers. The group had decided to spilt up to search for signs of anyone alive – or dead, who may lurk inside.

That is how she found herself with Daryl, searching one of the many homes which lined the streets in the small community. He shifted his bow, aiming it towards the entryway into a small kitchen. His grip tightened on the weapon causing the muscles in his bicep to flex. Carol swallowed and averted her eyes, attempting to ignore the thrill of want that burned in the pit of her stomach. She shook her head. Now was definitely _not_ the time.

This was the first chance that Daryl and she had been alone since Daryl had taken that tumble into the pond, since they had been so close to crossing that line into something deeper, something more than friendship. They had shared many heated glances during these last couple of weeks, but the opportunity to sort out anything else had not presented itself and it was driving her to the brink of distraction and distraction was not something she could afford, not in this world.

They cleared the kitchen and Daryl visibly relaxed, the tension releasing from his shoulders. He turned to face her, “Look for food, anything we can use.”

She nodded, opening the cupboard in front of her. She closed her eyes in elation. _Food_. Four cans of soup, two cans of beans, a bag of pasta and spaghetti sauce on the bottom and middle shelves. Her mouth watered involuntarily thinking of the savoury taste of tomato sauce. She hadn't had spaghetti in so long; it had been one of her favourite meals before the turn. She quickly pulled the food from the shelf, putting it in her bag.

Beside her Daryl rummaged through the drawers, pulling out knives, matches, flashlights, batteries and any other item which could be of use to them. She caught a glimpse of another can on the top shelf of the cupboard she had just looted and stood on her toes to get a better look. A delighted laugh bubbled up her chest.

Daryl paused and looked at her, his eyebrow raised.

“Veggies!” She grinned.

He snorted, the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement before going back to his own scavenging.

She lifted her arm, her entire body stretching to reach the cans. Her fingers brushed against one, she almost had it, just a little more. She pushed herself further and a jolt of pain tore through her shoulder taking her by surprise. She cried out and fell back to her feet.

“Christ,” Daryl exclaimed, he moved beside her, reaching for the can, “Let me get the high ones.”

The tone of his voice, like he was reprimanding a child, turned her mood in an instant. The constant moving from place to place, the limitations her injuries still caused her, everyone treating her like an invalid, every frustration that had built up over the last few weeks finally came to a head and she exploded.

“It's a fucking can of peas Daryl. I can do it,” she pushed his arm away.

He put his hands up in surrender. “Suit yourself,” he drawled.

She reached for the can, “I wish everyone would stop treating me like I was a piece of damn glass,” she muttered, standing taller, her fingers once again grazing the can. She closed her eyes briefly, ignoring the discomfort in her shoulder. If she couldn't reach a can of peas, how could she handle herself in a herd of walkers? “It is driving me fucking insane.”

Her fingers wrapped around the can and her heart soared in satisfaction. She went to pull it off the shelf but instead pushed it back further, completely out of her reach. “ _Shit_ ,” she growled in frustration.

Daryl chuckled beside her and her head snapped in his direction, “You sure as hell better not be laughing right now.”

His fingers pulled at his goatee, as he attempted to conceal his grin. “Don't think I've ever heard y'cuss this much in one sentence b'fore.”

She huffed in annoyance, “You're an asshole sometimes.”

A bark of laughter burst from Daryl. It was so sudden and unexpected, it surprised her. It was a sound she hadn't heard in quite awhile and her exasperation melted away.

His head was bowed looking at the ground, his grin still visible behind the veil of hair hanging in front of his face, “It was cute, s'all,” he mumbled.

Carol's stomach flipped and her cheeks burned.  _Cute?_ She leaned against the counter, avoiding looking at him, inhaling and exhaling slowly, attempting to calm herself. The silence stretched. She needed to say  _something_ . “Sorry,” she muttered, “I'm just - frustrated with my injuries and I definitely did not miss this constant moving around.”

“Hey,” Daryl said, his tone firm yet soft. Her eyes returned to his, “I'm not tryin' to treat y'like a piece of glass. I just-” he paused and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “You don't have to do things alone – I'm here,” he finished quietly, shaking his head, frustrated with her or himself, she couldn't quite tell.

“Help me get the peas?” she asked. It was a peace offering, another apology. She hadn't meant to take out her aggravation on him and she certainly wasn't angry with him. She was just so damn tired.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he moved in behind her. Before she could side step out of his way, he was pressing against her back, his arm reaching over her head. She stood frozen, the feeling of his body flush with hers only served to remind her of the _other_ frustration she had been facing. Her skin burned where he touched her, the feel of him stretched over her all taut and strong had every cell in her body coming to life. Heat rose to her face and her hands gripped the edge of the counter, she was certain Daryl could hear the pounding of her heart.

He grunted, unable to reach one of the cans, and pushed his body even closer to hers. She closed her eyes, attempting to ward off the desire that ran rampant through her. Was he even aware of what he was doing?

He placed the cans on the counter in an agonizingly slow manner before finally pulling back. She didn't look at him right away, afraid that her face would betray her yearning.

“I'm frustrated too,” he said, his drawl quiet and sincere.

She lifted her head, swallowing nervously before making eye contact with him.

“Maybe this is a place we can settle,” he continued.

Her eyebrow arched in surprise, “You hated being cooped up in the prison.”

“Had its 'vantages – it's good to have a place to call home.” His eyes drifted to the ground and his hand fidgeted with the strap of his bow, “Home is a good place for new beginnin's.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. She desperately wanted a fresh start, a clean slate, to forget the memories that haunted her. That was easier said than done unfortunately.

Daryl found her gaze again. There was something in his eyes which had her heart rate increasing once more, “There's a lot of things I want to start,” he said, a slight quiver in his voice.

Her breath hitched and her mouth went dry. She was at a loss of what to say. The look they shared was reminiscent of the one they shared by the pond, heated and full of longing, and it made her nervous.

“Me too,” she breathed, finally finding her voice.

Daryl reached out towards her and she held her breath as his fingers tentatively grazed her cheek before cupping her face with his hand. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, relishing the feel of his touch.

The sound of gunfire and shouting made them both jump. They shared a look of startled panic before racing to the front of the house, their weapons drawn.

Daryl glanced out the window, “Shit!” He moved passed her, headed to the door, “We got big trouble.”

She looked out the window herself, her heart plummeting. It looked to be about twenty walkers cornering Rick, Tyreese, and Noah and more were advancing towards the men, drawn by the gun shots and the yelling.

Carol ran out the door after Daryl, her rifle aimed ready to fire.

“Oh God,” she breathed when they made it outside. Walkers were coming from every direction; there had to be at least one hundred making their way towards Rick and the others about 25-30 yards up the street.

Daryl glanced over at her, his eyes wide. She could tell that he too had no clue where to even begin to help, no idea how to aid in saving their friends. If they went to assist the men in hand to hand combat, they were at a large risk of boxing themselves in as well, but if they fired their own guns, they could possibly draw some of the walkers away and give the guys a chance to fight out of the trap they had found themselves in.

Carol handed her rifle to Daryl, “Use the guns, distract them, take out as many as we can?”

He nodded, taking her rifle. She pulled out her revolver from her pants. They jogged to the the corner of the house and together they began to shoot.

The aim and range of her revolver was not ideal but she managed to take out a few of the closer walkers. Rick, Tyreese and Noah were in an intense battle. They had formed a circle, back to back, driving their machetes and knifes into the skulls of the dead, again and again.

“I gotta move in closer,” Daryl muttered, edging forward.

Carol moved with him, “No!” He stopped and swung his arm out in front of her, “Go to the gate,” his eyes pleaded.

She shook her head, “I'm not leaving - ” the ' _you_ ' hung in the air between them.

He gripped her elbow, “We're gonna need to get outta here fast. Someone needs t'open the gate so it's ready.”

She growled in frustration, knowing he was right and knowing that they had no time to discuss it further. He would be more help than she against the herd Rick and the others faced. It was yet another battle, the danger insurmountable, no guarantees that everyone would make it out safe.

“Daryl,” she breathed, trying to project all she felt into his name.

He squeezed her arm and handed her back the rifle, “I'll be right b'hind you,” he assured her. He gave her a little push, “Go.”

She held his gaze for a beat more before turning and running towards the gate.

It had been a while since she had really ran, not at all since being hit by the car and it didn't take long for her muscles to protest. Three walkers stumbled towards her from her right, sensing a fresh meal. She shot two of them in the head and aimed at the third, she pulled the trigger and nothing. She huffed in annoyance. She was out of bullets. Holstering the gun, she grabbed a hold of her knife. The last walker reached for her, desperate for a taste of her flesh. She shoved it away causing it to fall to the ground. She stepped on its flailing arm, pinning it and in one smooth motion pulled her knife out of her sheath and stabbed the walker through its eye, into its brain.

She made it to the gate, out of breath and her heart pounding. The door was large, three times her size at least. The structure that had held promise of sanctuary, of safety, now loomed over her like a trap, a barrier blocking her, and those she cared about, from freedom. She pushed down the lever and pulled with all her strength, pure adrenaline allowing her to open the door on her own.

She was met by the terror stricken faces of Carl, Tara, Eugene and Gabriel.

“Carol, we heard gunshots, what's going on?” Carl moved to push passed her, panicked and ready to fight.

She grabbed his elbow, pulling him back. “Take Judith and Tara and Eugene and go back to that barn we saw about 5 miles up the road.” Her voice was firm and commanding, she knew she was in for an argument and there was no time for it.

“I can help, you know I can,” his face was set with determination, a coldness there which made her ache for his lost childhood.

“I know, but you need to think about Judith right now. She needs you.”

“But my dad -”

“Your dad is fine, he's headed for the gate. He would want you to do what's best for Judith which is taking her to that barn.”

She turned to Tara and Eugene, “We'll meet you there. You need to go - now.”

Tara nodded and pulled Carl's sleeve, “Carl -”

He growled in frustration but took his sister from her and they headed in the direction of the barn.

Abraham and Rosita were the first ones through the gate followed by Michonne and Sasha, all heavy breaths and horrified expressions. They all knew going back in to assist the others could be deadly, an unwise decision, so they were forced to wait, taking out what walkers they could, knowing the gate would have to be closed before they too were overrun. It seemed like a lifetime to Carol. Daryl and the others should have been there by now. What the hell was going on?

Finally she saw Noah and Maggie running towards them, Rick and Glenn were assisting Tyreese, who appeared hurt but still upright. Close behind them was the one she had been looking for and her heart sparked with relief. Daryl seemed to be in one piece but about fifty walkers still pursued the group, they were not out of the woods yet.

“Close the gate,” Daryl yelled, as the group ran through the opening.

Abraham and Michonne pulled the door closed just in time and the air filled with the sound of the dead groaning and pounding on the other side.

Rick and Glenn had helped Tyreese to sit against a tree, and soon a mournful cry ripped from Sasha's mouth. Carol turned to Daryl, her eyes wide, pleading with him to not tell her the words she feared to hear.

Unshed tears shone in Daryl's eyes, “Ty's been bit.”

 

The barn wasn't much; it was falling apart, weathered by age, but there was an old well out the back and access to water was a top priority at the moment.

Tyreese was lying across a blanket on a bed of hay they had pushed together. Sasha sat beside him, her hand tightly clasped around his. Her head was bowed and Carol could hear the murmur of Tyreese's voice as he quietly spoke to his sister.

The sheen of sweat across his brow and the slight quiver of his body told her that Tyreese was feverish. It wouldn't be much longer now.

She rearranged the medical supplies on the shelf for the fifth time. She was doing her best to not focus on the fact that Tyreese was dying, that another person who was so innately good was being taken from this world.

“Carol,” Sasha's voice cracked. She turned, startled, she had not heard the young woman approach.

“Is Tyreese alright?” Panic rose in her chest.

Tears filled Sasha's eyes, “He wants to talk to you.”

Carol nodded her head, the action quick and sharp, clearing her throat to halt her own tears. She reached out caressing Sasha's arm before moving to Tyreese.

She approached him slowly. He seemed so small lying there, not at all like the gentle giant she had come to know. He was so still, so pale.

“Ca-Carol,” his voice was weak and he erupted into a fit of coughing.

“Shh,” Carol hushed him and grabbed a cloth from the water bucket they had found and placed it on his brow. “Save your energy.”

“I'm dying Carol,” he wheezed, “I need to be able to say my – my peace.” He watched her carefully, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. He always amazed her, even at a time like this he was able to tease.

“I wanted to – to thank you,” he said, his expression turning solemn.

Her brow furrowed, “Thank me?” Those words were not something she had expected him to say. She had done nothing but cause him sorrow, she had killed the woman he loved.

“If you hadn't found me and the girls when you did-,” he closed his eyes, his face pained.

Her stomach dropped. Flashes of Lizzie standing over Mika holding a bloody knife, of her pulling the trigger and Lizzie falling into the bed of yellow flowers assaulted her. She pulled her hand away from Tyreese's forehead, placing the cloth back into the basin. The urge to flee from the room was overwhelming.

He opened his eyes, capturing her gaze, “Judith is alive because of you.”

She shook her head, “Judith is alive because of _you_.”

She slammed her hand against the wooden pillar that stood beside her, the anger that had been bubbling just below the surface finally breaking free. “This isn't fair,” she cried, tears of fury clouding her vision.

“Carol,” he reached for her. She avoided looking in his eyes, didn't think she could bear it at the moment. She kept her gaze trained on their joint hands, her hand seemed so small in his.

“I've made peace with it,” he was quiet for a beat, “If I'm being honest – I'm a bit relieved.”

Her eyes snapped to his, her face scrunched in confusion. He smiled softly at her look, “You and I both know that I am not cut out for this world.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed her hand and shook his head.

After a minute he shifted back so he was staring at the ceiling. Carol stood there silently watching him, her hand still clasped in his.

“I'm worr – worried about Sasha,” he rasped, his tone quiet and his voice strained. “She just lost Bob-,”

“We'll take care of her,” she assured him.

“I know.”

He fell into another coughing fit. Carol grabbed a glass of water from the small ledge against the wall. She placed her hand on the back of his head, helping him to take a couple small sips. When finished, his head dropped back, exhausted from the small task.

He took a few shaky breaths before he spoke again, “It wasn't fair of me to – to say we should ke-keep it to ourselves – about the girls.”

Carol closed her eyes.

“You did right by those girls Carol, don't ever doubt that. It had to be done – it was right” He turned his head to look at her, “I'm sorry I couldn't do it – that it fell – that it fell to you.”

Carol swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, wiping away the stray tear that had fallen.

“Talk to someone – ,” he continued, “- to - to Daryl. Don't let this consume you.”

She swallowed, attempting to control the sob that rose in her throat, she could do nothing but nod her head.

Tyreese died a couple hours later. Sasha had stayed by his side insisting she be the one to drive the knife through his skull, prevent him from turning into the very thing that had taken him from her. She had left shortly after they had buried him, needing some space. Rick and Michonne had followed her from a distance to keep an eye out for her, far enough away to give her a chance to mourn her brother in private.

Carol was unsure where everyone else was. There had been talk of scouting ahead to see if it was safe to move forward. She worked meticulously packing away the supplies they had used on Tyreese, cleaning up the area so Sasha wouldn't have to deal with seeing it when she returned. She was on auto pilot, just going through the motions, trying not to dwell on the newest tragedy that they faced, numb.

She bent, lifting the water basin that had been used to keep Tyreese as cool and as comfortable as possible in his last moments. It was heavy and she struggled under the weight of it but it was vital she dump it, she needed to get rid of every painful reminder of Tyreese's death – for Sasha – for the others.

She took a step forward, not seeing the log that laid across the ground and stumbled over it, the bucket slipping from her grasp, one of the sharp edges slicing her hand. She cried out in pain and twisted her hand to see the blood trickle down her arm. She growled in frustration and kicked the basin. Dropping the water was the final straw and the rage she had been surpressing seeped out of her every pore.

She stormed over to the nearest shelf, grabbing items one by one and hurled them across the open space with all the force she could muster, each throw punctuated with a cry of outrage. An old clock, a broken radio, a picture frame - anything she could grab.

A strong hand wrapped around her bicep, stilling her, before she was able to throw the dust covered horse trophy that she held firmly in her hand.

“Carol,” he breathed her name and her grip on the trophy immediately loosened, dropping to the ground with a soft thud.

Her knees went weak and she felt lightheaded, her breath heavy and she wanted nothing more than to lie down, close her eyes, and forget.

She crumbled to the ground, gasping in the fresh air, hyperventilating. It felt like she couldn't breathe.

Daryl followed her to the ground, rubbing soft circles on her back, “Shh, I'm here,” he whispered in her ear, “Jus' breathe. In – and – out.”

His voice was soothing and she inhaled and exhaled following his directions until her breathing was once again under control.

He stayed with her, kneeling on the ground behind her, his hand still moving slowly on her back, comforting her. She couldn't help the tears that filled her eyes.

“It isn't fair,” she muttered, her voice just above a whisper.

“I know,” Daryl answered.

A sob fell from her mouth and she turned her body towards him. Her fists grabbed a hold of his vest and she buried her head into his shoulder, letting out every emotion she had buried deep within her. Her anger, her frustration, her sorrow and her guilt, all of it poured out of her into Daryl's shoulder, sobs ransacking her body.

He held her tightly to him, murmuring words to her every now and then, _'Let it out,'_ and _'I'm here,'_ over and over again, his lips brushing across her temple.

She wasn't sure how long they sat like that, her forehead pushed against his neck, her hands still gripping his vest, and his arms wrapped around her.

A dull ache in her hand had her pulling back. She glanced down where her hands rested on his chest and noticed the dry blood covering her arm and staining his vest. She had forgotten that she had sliced her hand when she had dropped the basin.

“I'm sorry,” she gasped.

His eyes widened, noticing the gash, “You're bleedin'.” He lifted her injured hand, inspecting the cut. “Wait here,” he instructed firmly, standing.

She watched as he rummaged around in a few of their bags in the corner of the barn and then he disappeared outside.

He re-appeared a few minutes later, a fresh bucket of water in his hand and makeshift bandages in the other.

He sat on the ground in front of her once more, tenderly working, washing away the filth and grime that surrounded the cut.

She watched in a daze, unable to tear her eyes away from his gentle ministrations nor away from the water that dripped down her arm that was a messy mix of dirt and blood. He carefully wrapped her wound and still she continued to stare, so many emotions battling to take control of her heart. He was being so tender and caring, after all those years with Ed it was a concept that was still so foreign, that someone's touch could be this loving. Ed often told her she was unlovable and she destroyed everything she touched, those words had been repeated over and over again that it was impossible not to eventually believe them. Looking back though it was hard to discredit what he had said, the things she loved most she _had_ destroyed...Sophia...the girls-

“Hey,” Daryl softly called, pulling her out of her trance. She raised her head and found his gaze. “Don't slip away – talk to me,” he pleaded.

Fresh tears sprung to her eyes, Tyreese's words echoed in her mind, ' _Talk to someone – talk to Daryl – don't let it consume you_.' Daryl was the exact opposite of everything Ed had been to her. He listened when she spoke, he never belittled her and her opinions...he cared. Her heart pounded and fear engulfed her, finding out what she had done to Lizzie could possibly change how Daryl perceived her, it could possibly drive him away and the thought of losing him was unbearable.

“Carol,” he whispered, his eyes glistened, and he looked distressed, worried about her. Looking at him then, her decision was made, he was the one person she _could_ talk to – about anything and what she had experienced with Tyreese and the girls, it was slowly eating her alive. She had to tell him before it killed her.

“Lizzie was sick,” her own voice startled her and she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.

Daryl said nothing, he only squeezed her hand lightly, encouraging her to continue.

“She thought the walkers were still the people they used to be after they turned. She wanted to prove it to Tyreese and I.” She paused, taking another shaky breath, “She killed Mika and would have killed Judith as well if Tyreese and I hadn't gotten there in time.”

She heard Daryl sharply intake some air, but his face remained unreadable. She rubbed her temple trying to ease the dull thud in her head. It was time – time to release this weight that held her down, time to finally share the untold memory that tore at her heart day by day ever since she held that gun and pulled that trigger, the memory that threatened to drown her.

Daryl watched her, his gaze unwavering, concern written across his features. She desperately wanted to turn away, petrified of what she may see in their depths after she confessed, but he deserved her full attention, _this_ deserved her full attention.

“I killed her,” the words fell out, rushed and pained. “I had to. I took her out to a patch of wildflowers and shot her - It destroyed me,” she whispered.

A sorrow unlike anything she had ever witness flashed through his eyes, no judgement, no hatred just despair over what she had had to face. He moved forward suddenly, pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her. “Y'did the right thing – the only thing y'could've,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

She whimpered softly, returning his hug, relishing the comfort he offered, relief flooding her.

“I should've been there – I would never – I would've made sure you didn't have to do that – you should've never had to do that,” he kept muttering into her hair.

She clung to him tighter, silent tears falling down her cheeks. The pain of this life seemed to be never ending, there were never any breaks, never any peace. She was tired of losing people, tired of living her life day by day in constant fear of something happening to the ones she loved. She longed to feel something other than pain and fear and disappointment, even if it was just for a moment.

Daryl nuzzled further into her hair, his lips brushing against her temple and she felt a spark. _Daryl_. Daryl had this ability to make her feel every _good_ thing. _No regrets,_ her mind screamed.

She drew back from the embrace, not allowing herself to overthink. She cupped Daryl's cheeks with her hands, gazed briefly into his eyes and then pressed her lips to his. His lips were dry and slightly chapped but they were warm and she hummed at the sensation, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

His entire body went rigid and Carol realized her error in judgement. She jerked back horrified and stumbling to her feet, almost tripping in her haste to stand up. She must have read him wrong, all the heated looks and all the words spoken between them - he didn't want her. Maybe it was the timing, right now, this entire situation, it was not remotely romantic – it was the worst time imaginable. He probably thought she had gone insane. What had she been thinking? - So stupid.

She shook her head, backing away from him, not daring to make eye contact, “Oh God,” she moaned, “I'm so sorry.”

She gasped in surprise when Daryl appeared standing in front of her. His calloused hands rested on her cheeks and he firmly tilted her head so her gaze was forced to meet his. She hadn't even realized he had gotten to his feet as well. His eyes were dark and full of pure want that it had her pulse racing out of control. For one brief moment Daryl looked unsure and then it was gone and his head descended towards her.

The angle was wrong and their noses collided. A small, nervous giggle sounded from her lips, but it quickly turned into a soft sigh when his lips finally landed on hers. They lingered together exchanging kisses that were soft and slow, both of them were a little hesitant and insecure, but the light touches still made her heart stutter and caused a warmth to spread in her belly, a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. Daryl's hands dropped to her waist, wrapping around her until they rested on the small of her back. He pulled her closer, their bodies flush, the rhythm of his heart matching her own, fast and erratic. It was beautiful and perfect and it had her craving more.

Her tongue slid along his upper lip seeking entrance. Daryl growled from deep within his throat, the sound more erotic than anything she had ever heard before. He opened his mouth and their tongues met in a surge of passion, the kiss deepening. It was a far cry from the gentle exploring they had previously been engaged in. It was raw and it was desperate and it had been a long time coming.

The sound of voices outside the barn had her regretfully pulling back. Daryl softly whimpered in protest.

“Someone's coming,” she whispered, her breath heavy.

His eyes widened and he backed away from her, staggering slightly on his feet. The loss of his touch was disappointing.

The barn door swung open and Tara and Glenn entered, both carrying an arm full of wood.

“Hey, what are you two up to?” Tara asked.

“Nothin',” Daryl barked, roughly grabbing the pile from Tara's arms and putting it on the ground, surprising her with his abruptness.

“Woah there tiger, no need to snap. Was just wondering if we could get a hand carrying all this wood in before it rains.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Carol said, doing her best to sound normal.

The young woman sent her a smile as Glenn watched Daryl, a strange expression on his face.

“Did you hurt your hand?” Tara asked, noticing the bandaged appendage, concern evident in her eyes.

“Just a little cut, I'm fine,” she reassured.

“I'll get the wood.” Daryl said, “You rest your hand.” He avoided looking at her altogether and was out the door before she could protest.

She sighed, closing her eyes. Realization over what she and Daryl had just done began to set in. Both of them had not had the most successful relationships in the past. Before the turn, love for them had been full of nothing but pain and disenchantment. The friendship they had formed now, at the end of the world, was something she cherished and desperately needed. Adding romance into the mix was a surefire way to complicate things even more than what they already were and Daryl didn't do complicated. Her thumb grazed over her lips. That kiss they had just shared had pushed them into uncharted territory, it was new and different, and there was no turning back. Their relationship was forever changed and it scared the hell out of her.

 

 


	4. A Time to Scatter Stones

_**A Time to Scatter Stones** _

 

Carol stood under the water, her eyes closed, revelling in the feel of the hot stream cascading down her body, the grime of the day slowly being washed away. It was still hard to believe this small luxury was back within her reach. Carol wasn't a fool though, she knew nothing good lasts in this world, but she sure as hell was going to enjoy these hot showers for as long as she could.

It had been almost a month since Aaron had made his presence known to them after that terrifying, stormy night in the barn. It seemed like a lifetime ago. They had just lost Tyreese and Beth not long before that. They had lost all semblance of hope and were barely getting by. Food had been scarce and before the rain they had been desperate for water, but they had kept putting one foot in front of the other. They had kept pushing themselves to go on, for Judith, for Carl, and for each other. It had been a difficult endeavour though, each of them had been weight down by their own individual demons which had made hope hard to believe in.

She lathered the shampoo on her hands and her fingers dug hard into her scalp, attempting to massage away the tensions from the day. The smell of vanilla and lavender assaulted her nose. She took a deep breath, savouring the smell.

Since arriving at the safe haven Aaron had promised, time had seemed to speed up, each day passing in a blink of an eye. Upon their arrival, the group had been interviewed by several of the leaders of Alexandria, forced to relive the past, forced to speak of the people they had lost and the hardships they had overcome. Carol had sat through her interview with her head held high and a smile plastered on her face. She had forced the pain of her memories deep within herself and only gave away what she deemed necessary. Her trust would not be given away easily and these people of Alexandria, although they seemed harmless, had yet to earn it.

Their small group were given homes and one by one were assigned jobs in the community, a part to play to ensure that the town was running as efficiently as possible. The leaders had deemed it appropriate that Carol work in the small clinic that operated within the walls of Alexandria. It seemed Rick and the others had all sung her praises over the skills she had picked up from Hershel.

The clinic was run by two doctors. Harold Halbroke, who had been a neurosurgeon before the turn and Elizabeth McCreedy who had been a paediatrician. The leaders had also assigned Maggie to work at the clinic along with Carol based on all she had learnt from assisting her father over the years. They along with another woman, Brenda, assisted the doctors whenever and wherever needed.

She leaned her head against the shower wall as the hot water pounded against her back. It had been a long, exhausting day at the clinic. A couple of men from Alexandria had been out checking some snares and were attacked by a herd of walkers. One of them, Mike, had been bitten on his arm and Carol had assisted Harold with the amputation. Unfortunately they had been too late and the man had not survived. It was a stark reminder that letting their guard down was not something they could allow to happen. It was still a dangerous, unforgiving world they lived in. The people here had been behind these walls for far too long and they had no clue what the world was really like, all of them running around like naive, little children. Even though she feared she and her loved ones could grow weak living here, she couldn't deny the safety the walls of Alexandria afforded them. It was well protected and their group desperately needed a place to rest which they would be able to do here. With their knowledge and expertise of the outside world they could help the people of Alexandria become stronger. Thankfully, what had happened today had opened many eyes.

What bothered her the most about the tragedy though was the fact that Daryl and Glenn were still somewhere outside the walls at that very moment. Both had been assigned as recruiters and it was their first time out. They had been gone for a week and were due back tomorrow. She knew Daryl and Glenn were more than capable of handling themselves but it didn't stop her from worrying, especially after what had happened today. She just selfishly needed her family all together. Nothing good ever happened when they were all separated.

She shut the water off and grabbed a towel, drying off slightly and wrapping it around her body, shivering at the slight chill in the air. Her thoughts lingered on Daryl, the kiss they had shared was never far from her memory. She had analyzed every moment of their kiss, every touch, every shudder of Daryl's body as he had been pressed against her. The very thought of it pulled her through a myriad of emotions every single time. She went from extreme elation that it had finally happened to wanting to curl up in a ball in shame and embarrassment. The timing and the way that she had basically attacked Daryl had been so unlike her, she was sure it had scared the hell out of him. She knew it had scared the hell out of her. Yet, he _had_ kissed her back. That had to mean something.  They of course hadn't talked about it. Aaron had revealed himself the next day, after the storm, and they had then entered into the whirlwind that had been Alexandria. There were moments over the past few weeks where their eyes would catch and hold, but then someone would interrupt or one of them would lose the nerve to actually put themselves out there. They were both so damn afraid, but today had reminded Carol that life was too short and she wanted this; she _wanted_ Daryl.

She looked at herself in the mirror and groaned. The complexity of the feelings Daryl stirred within her was a constant source of frustration. Knowing she had to get ready for that damn party tonight, she made sure her towel was securely wrapped around her before opening the door. She walked out into the hallway and immediately collided into someone else.

She let out a small squeak of surprise, her hands grabbing onto what she could to steady herself. Her breath hitched as her hands wrapped around a pair of strong biceps. Her heart picked up speed as she slowly looked up and came eye to eye with the stormy blue eyes which haunted her dreams.

“Daryl,” she gasped.

“Hey” he grunted, still a little stunned by her sudden appearance right smack into him.

He was covered in dirt and walker blood and he looked completely exhausted, but Carol couldn't remember seeing something quite as beautiful before. On instinct, she closed the small gap between them and wrapped her arms around him, burrowing her head into his neck. She felt him tense for only a moment before his arms encircled her waist, pulling her more tightly against him.

“I was worried,” she breathed, “Are you OK? And Glenn?”

She felt him nod against her cheek. “Just a few walkers. Nothin' we couldn't handle. Got some real good supplies.”

“Good,” she mumbled, “I'm glad you're back safe.”

He squeezed her briefly before loosening his hold, “Hey - It's me,” he drawled and from his tone of voice she knew he was teasing.

She snorted, pulling back to look at him, her hands still resting on his shoulders. The gravity of the situation earlier at the clinic reemerged in her memory and she turned serious once again. “Exactly,”she said, wanting to convey to him how important he was to her in that one word. That losing _him_ was the one thing that made her the most anxious.

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he ducked his head towards the floor. Immediately his head snapped back up and his eyes widened. His hands fell from her waist as if he had been burned. He stumbled backwards, coughing, his cheeks turning an even brighter red. His eyes were fixated on her. He scanned her entire body once and then his gaze dropped back to the floor, completely avoiding looking at any part of her. She then remembered her state of dress, or undress if you will, and felt heat rise to her own cheeks. She had forgotten she was wearing only a towel and not only that, she was completely naked underneath. She shivered from the heat that pooled in her stomach from standing so close to him in that state and began to nervously twirl a loose thread from the towel around her finger, her heart beating erratically in her chest.

Daryl chanced a look at her once again and then quickly looked away when he saw that she was watching him, his eyes danced around the small hallway.

“I – uh – should – get- uh - cleaned up,” he stuttered.

Despite her nerves she couldn't resist the urge to tease, “Never thought I'd see the day that you'd voluntarily offer to go have a shower.”

“Pfft -,” he scoffed and side stepped widely around her, catching her eye as he passed. Her heart quivered at the intensity of his stare and then she watched as he ran straight into the doorjamb.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moaned, rubbing his forehead.

Carol gasped, her hand covering her mouth, “Are you alright?”

“M'fine,” he grumbled, not looking at her, clearly flustered.

He went to shut the door, his face blazing in embarrassment but she didn't want him to go quite yet. She had this innate yearning to talk to him still, despite the awkwardness which had descended upon them and despite the fact that she was only dressed in a towel.

“Daryl!” she called. He paused just inside the washroom, the door half way shut and glanced over his shoulder. Her mind struggled to come up with something to say. _Just talk Carol_.

“The Pearson's are throwing a little get together tonight and have invited all of us,” the words tumbled out of her mouth quickly, “You should come.”

“Not really my type of thing.”

She knew it wasn't but now that it was out there she realized just how badly she wanted him to be there – with her. “Not really my type of thing either but...I'm trying.”

They stared at one another, their eyes locked in an intense exchange and she could tell the words were not lost on Daryl. They were the very words they had spoken to one another in Atlanta when they were looking for Beth. Words which had echoed around them like promises, a commitment to their future.

He swallowed and looked to the floor, “I don't know – s'been a long week.”

“OK,” she said, doing her best to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Of course it had been a long week for him, he needed his rest. “If you change your mind – I'd be really happy to see you there.”

Daryl nodded and quickly stepped into the washroom, closing the door behind him.

Carol practically ran to her room. She fell back against the wall and buried her head into her hands. Would it ever not be awkward between them? The last thing she wanted to do was ruin their friendship just because she wanted more. She groaned and pushed herself off the wall determined to not over think it. She had a party to get ready for.

They party was in full swing by the time Carol arrived with Michonne. Her palms were sweaty and her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. She glanced down at what she was wearing. The jeans she wore were tighter than what she was used to, but the black boots were comfortable coming up about mid calf. It was the shirt that gave her pause, a deep blue silk blouse that had a build in bra which had pushed her breasts together putting more than just a hint of them on display. What the hell had she been thinking? She had never worn anything like it and now, being in a group of people, she was feeling very self-conscious. Maggie had been the one who talked her into wearing it, she had also been the one who convinced her to style her hair and wear make-up. _It will be fun Carol – You look fantastic Carol,_ she had said, but if Carol was being completely honest, it had been Maggie's smile and her excitement that had had Carol agreeing. It was the first genuine moment of joy that Maggie had expressed since the loss of Beth and that made everything else seem unimportant. Plus, her boobs _did_ look fantastic.

She spotted Maggie and Glenn across the room where they were talking to a few of the younger residents of Alexandria. Carol recognized some of them including Ashley, a teenager who volunteered at the clinic sorting supplies.

Maggie rushed towards them, a bright smile on her face. “You guys look so beautiful,” she exclaimed, hugging them both. Her face was flushed, a sure sign the wine in her hand had not been her first glass of the evening.

Carol jumped when a hand grazed her arm.

 She turned and met the smiling face of Harold, the doctor she and Maggie worked with at the clinic. He stood tall, dressed in dark jeans and a dark purple dress shirt, his greying hair parted to the side. He looked distinguished and quite handsome and she felt a slight flutter in her chest.

"Carol you look stunning,” he exclaimed.

“Oh, uh – thank you.”

She could feel the heat in her cheeks and mentally kicked herself over the blush she knew would be visible.

Harold turned to Michonne and Maggie, “You all do,” he said, greeting Maggie with a kiss to the cheek.

They both smiled, thanking him.

“You remember Michonne?” Carol asked.

“Yes. It's nice having official law enforcement again. It's a right step towards getting back to normal.”

Michonne smiled politely, “I'm afraid it will never be normal.”

“Well – a new normal,” he said, his tone grave but kind.

“Life is very different outside these walls,” Carol said, reflecting on how little Harold knew about the reality of life outside Alexandria.

“Yes, it was quite the reminder of that today - at the clinic. I've been behind these walls for so long, the reality of what is out there is something that is hard to remember. I should never forget.” He turned to focus solely on Carol, his look causing her to shift nervously. “I'd love to hear more about the outside world, perhaps over dinner?”

Carol's eyes blinked rapidly as the words registered. “What?” she asked, stunned.

Her eyes sought out Maggie and Michonne, surely he had addressed all of them. He must be requesting dinner with their group, that had to be it. Both women appeared speechless, small grins on both of their faces.

“Um – Glenn - he's calling me over, if you'll excuse me,” Maggie's hands moved in an overly dramatic way. With one quick glance at Glenn laughing with Tara and the others across the room, Carol knew he had definitely _not_ called his wife over. _Damn her_.

Carol's gaze landed on Michonne, her heart beat a bit more quickly, panic settling in. Her eyes all but pleaded with her friend, she didn't want to be left alone, old anxieties overwhelming her.

“I'm just-,” Michonne pointed haphazardly in the opposite direction, “going to -,” her hand dropped back to her side as she gave up on finding an excuse to leave and just walked away without another word.

Carol inwardly groaned. She took a deep breath and turned back to Harold who looked slightly amused. “I apologize for that,” she mumbled.

He smiled, taking a step towards her, “I'm not complaining.”

She laughed but it came out more like a nervous twitter.

“I'm sorry,” Harold said, taking the step back to where he originally stood, “I'm making you uncomfortable.”

“No!” Carol was quick to reassure. It was a lie, she was uncomfortable but it wasn't in a bad way, just a very surprising way. It had been a long time since she was in a situation remotely close to this. Ed had made damn sure that she was never given the opportunity to speak alone with a man at a party or in general. Even an innocent conversation about the weather would have landed her at least a couple of broken ribs.

“I'm rusty. I've been out of this whole dating game for many years now.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice squeaked. _Dating_? She felt like she was in an alternate universe,like she was living outside of her body, watching this happen to someone else

His demeanour became more serious, “I find you intriguing Carol. You're smart, and you're kind. You're tough – the stuff you dealt with today - ,” he shook his head in awe, “You were amazing.” He found her gaze once again, “You're also very beautiful.”

His stare and the yearning that he couldn't completely hide in his eyes had her throat constricting and she broke out into a sweat.

“What?” she croaked. She had no clue how to even respond. This wasn't something that happened in this world anymore. This wasn't something that happened to _her_.

“I hadn't seen a wedding ring or met a husband or partner.” He frowned at her expression. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, “I've overstepped my boundary.”

“No apologies are necessary, you just – took me by surprise.” She pushed her hand through her hair, flustered. “Oh God – I'm sorry – I can't remember the last time I was -”

“Flirted with?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled on a shaky breath.

Harold folded his hands in front of him and Carol envied how calm and collected he seemed. “Look – I would really love to cook you dinner sometime, get to know you better - outside of the clinic, but I don't want to push. How about I start with getting you a drink. Would you like a glass of wine?” He indicated the makeshift bar with his hand.

Carol nodded, a glass of wine would do wonders to calm her nerves. “Yes – please, I'd like that.”

The minute he left Carol began to internally debate whether she should stay or if she should go. Her eyes followed the path to the door, looking for any obstacles that stood between her and an escape, her mind already formulating different excuses she could tell Harold why she left when she saw him at the clinic next.

Before she could make her move, the front door opened and everything else seemed to disappear. _Daryl._ She watched as he nervously made small talk with Martin and Olivia Pearson and she took the time to observe him uninterrupted. He looked good. He looked _damn_ good. He was freshly showered, his hair brushed and out of his eyes. He wore a pair of black jeans, without holes, and a new dark green shirt. He wore his vest as well. Carol knew it was a lifeline for him, something that made him feel a bit more at ease in an uncomfortable situation and her heart swelled knowing he was stepping out of his comfort zone for her.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up catching her eye. He visibly relaxed at the sight of her and then his eyes widened as he slowly took her in from head to toe. She shivered at his scrutiny, at the way his eyes darkened as he observed her. Her heart raced for an entirely different reason than nerves. She swallowed, and offered him a small smile. Not knowing what else to do, she lifted her hand, moving her fingers in a slight wave. Realizing how lame she must look, she dropped her hand back to her side, mentally cursing herself. He nodded and started to walk towards her, his gaze never drifting from hers. Her pulse quickened with each step he took that brought him closer.

“You came,” she said when he finally stood in front of her.

He ducked his head and he took a breath before returning his eyes to hers, “I'm tryin',” he said, his voice just above a whisper and her heart soared.

She smiled and feeling slightly bold, she reached out and stroked his arm,, “You clean up good Dixon.”

She felt him shiver at her touch, his eyes a mixture of apprehension and desire,“Uh- you're – clean too,” he mumbled.

Carol smiled at his awkwardness, “I...am.”

Daryl closed his eyes and his fingers pushed against his temple in frustration, “Shit – I mean – you -” he paused, his eyes raking her body once again. Her breath came out in shallow wisps, her body growing warm from his smouldering gaze. “You look-”

“Carol – your drink.”

Both Daryl and her froze at the intrusion. Harold. _Shit_.

“Oh – uh – thanks,” Carol stumbled over her words and a nervous laugh fell from her lips.

She took the glass of wine from Harold too quickly and the liquid spilled over the side of the flute running over her thumb unto the floor. “Shit,” she grumbled under her breath, bringing her hand to her mouth to clean up her mess. Harold rested his hand on her arm to help steady her trembling.

Daryl stood stiff and unblinking, the very definition of a deer in the headlights, staring at the spot where Harold's hand rested on her arm. Carol quickly stepped away from him but the damage had been done. She could tell in the mistrustful glare Daryl had fixed on Harold that he was spiralling into a web of distaste and self doubt. She needed to fix this.

She turned to Harold but stepped closer to Daryl, hoping her nearness would act to calm him, reassure him that Harold was no threat to whatever they may have going on.

“You remember Daryl?” she asked Harold.

“I do.” he replied, “It's good to see you again.” He offered his hand to shake in greeting but Daryl just continued to stare at him. Harold dropped his hand awkwardly to his side and cleared his throat, nervously, “Haven't seen you around much.”

“Daryl's one of the new recruiters. They all just got back this morning,” Carol explained, watching Daryl closely. She attempted to catch his eye but was unsuccessful. “I work with Harold at the clinic,” she reminded him. “He's one of the doctors.”

His head snapped towards her, finally looking at her. A flash of something akin to anguish pierced through his eyes.

“A doctor?” he mumbled. He lowered his gaze to the floor, a self deprecating snort sounded from him. “Right,” he drawled.

He quickly glanced at her once again and her heart dropped at the sadness that she could see simmering in his expression, he seemed - resigned. She knew him well enough to know that he was comparing himself to Harold and was coming to the conclusion that he came up short. It broke her heart that he would still think that of himself especially since it was the furthest thing from the truth.

He turned to leave and Carol felt desperate to stop him. “Daryl,” she reached out and grabbed him, afraid that if he left now, that that would be it, that whatever this was between them would be finished before it even had a chance to begin.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, the doleful, hard expression now gone and replaced by something softer. “Y'know this ain't my thing,” his tone was gentle. He tilted his head towards Harold, “You have fun with your doctor.”

Before she could form a response, he had shrugged out of her grasp and was out the door and she physically deflated. Her chest ached and she felt like she was going to be sick. She used to love watching romantic comedies before the turn but Ed hated them and used to tell her they were garbage, useless pieces of trash like herself. On the odd occasion when he had an overnight business trip, she would sneak one in and watch it and fantasize about being the object of affection of not only one man but two men. How naive she had been, it wasn't cute and wacky hijinks like the movies often portrayed – what she just experienced had been a fucking nightmare. She should have never came to this party.

“Is everything alright?” Harold asked quietly.

Carol blinked back the tears that had formed and cleared her throat, “It's complicated.”

“And I've made it more so,” he observed.

Carol turned to him, reaching out a hand to comfort on natural instinct, “Not intentionally,” she forced a smile, the need to leave overpowering her. “I'm sorry, I think I am going to call it a night. Thank you for the drink.” She placed the still full wine glass on the small table beside her.

“It's not a problem,” Harold's tone was soft and understanding. “Good night Carol.”

“Good night.”

She went to leave but Harold's voice stopped her.

“Hey Carol.” She turned back to look at him. “If anything changes – there,” he waved his hand between her and the door where Daryl had just left, “my offer to dinner still stands.”

She nodded her head, unsure of what else to do. This entire day had been a whirlwind of emotions and it made it hard to think clearly. One thing she did know for sure though, as nice as it had felt to have a handsome man flirt with her, Daryl was too far embedded in her heart for her to give in to something – to _someone_ else. Daryl was everything that she wanted. She just hoped that she would be able to convince him that he was enough for her.

 

 


	5. A Time to Tear and A Time to Mend

_**A Time to Tear and A Time to Mend** _

Carol worked meticulously, cleaning the kitchen in a practised manner. It was remarkable how quickly it had all come back to her. A few weeks in Alexandria and it was like she had never left her homemaking role. She didn't mind the work, craved it sometimes even. It was all monotonous tasks and it allowed her to keep busy and not to obsess over issues she had no control over, namely, one Daryl Dixon. She hadn't seen him since the party last night. She had tried to find him, but he had done one hell of a job of making himself scarce. He had a habit of doing that, disappearing when he doubted himself most. A trait that irritated her at times.

She rinsed the cloth out in the sink and started to wipe the counter. She turned when she heard the door open, startled when she saw the subject of her thoughts entering, his crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"Daryl...hi."

"Hey," his voice was gruff, his eyes flitting nervously around the room as he hovered awkwardly by the threshold.

"I – um - fixed you up a plate from dinner." She walked to the fridge to retrieve the plate of cold salads she had saved for him. Her mind raced with possible reasons to get him to stay in case he refused the food.

She handed him the plate, their fingers brushing in the pass and Carol mentally cursed the goosebumps that formed from the touch. "Thanks," he mumbled, meeting her eyes briefly. Her shoulders relaxed when Daryl pulled out one of the stools at the island and sat down. His shoulders slumped over his plate and he started to devour the food like he hadn't eaten in weeks. He paused for a moment, looking up at her, his hair obscuring her from getting a good view of his face. He seemed almost...bashful. He cleared his throat, "It's real good."

She smiled. She could never resist the charm of a Daryl Dixon compliment.

She turned back toward the sink and started to put away the dishes she had washed earlier. She needed to keep her hands busy, distract her from the nerves dancing in her stomach.

"You left so fast last night. I tried to find you -"

"Went for a walk – needed to clear my head. Left early this mornin' to go huntin'."

Her hand tightened around the glass she was holding, frustration bubbling. Hunting was always his excuse when he was running away from things he couldn't handle. She turned to face him, "I - I wanted to talk to you."

Daryl stood up abruptly passing by Carol to get to the sink. "Ain't nothin' to talk about." He was avoiding her and she could tell he was shutting down, his walls erecting once more. He could be so damn exasperating sometimes.

He had his back to her, quickly cleaning his plate and she knew she had to be blunt, no skirting around the issue at hand.

"I'm not interested in Harold."

The plate slipped out of Daryl's hand and he fumbled to catch it, his cat-like reflexes aiding him. He turned around and swallowed, "What?"

His brow was furrowed, his eyes squinting in confusion.

"You know – just in case – you – thought we," she closed her eyes, mortified at the blubbering mess she had quickly turned into. She took a shaky breath, it was now or never, "I think I've made it quite clear who it is that I am interested in."

Daryl's eyes widened by a fraction and his Adam's apple bobbed. She took a step toward him, not breaking eye contact, her heart racing, her breath short and shallow.

They both jumped when someone coughed.

"Uh - Hey guys." Carl stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his hand entwined with a young female's, pink tingeing his cheeks. "Um – this - this is Emily," he stuttered. He turned back to Emily, his free hand waved erratically, "This is Carol – and um Daryl."

Emily was petite and stood about an inch shorter than Carl. Ash blonde, shoulder-length hair. She turned, smiling, to face Carol, a splatter of freckles across her cheeks, a tint of green in her eyes and Carol's breath hitched. Her mind flashed to the quarry. The two of them, laughing and running along the rocks, hand in hand.

The glass she had been holding slipped through her fingers, falling to the floor and shattered. The sound pulled her out of her daze, and she gripped the counter and took a deep breath. The young girl stood looking wide eyed at the mess on the floor. Not Sophia, but another girl. The similarities between them were haunting.

Carol's body began to tremble and she knelt quickly to the floor largely to keep herself from collapsing.

"Carol!" Carl rushed to her side and she felt Daryl there as well.

"Sorry," she whispered, her hand still shook, making it impossible for her to pick up any of the broken glass.

Daryl grasped her hand, gently squeezing it. "I got it."

She nodded her head once and again, not daring to look at him. She was a dam ready to burst and knew that making eye contact with Daryl would push her over the edge. She needed to leave. Her legs felt like lead as she attempted to stand. Once on her feet, she stumbled, Daryl's hand on her elbow helped steady her.

"If you'll excuse me," she muttered. She found the nerve to look at the girl, "It was nice to meet you...Emily."

She didn't wait for a response before she fled the room.

* * *

Carol sat on her bed, her fingers fiddling with the hair elastics on her wrist lost in memories of the past. There was never a time where she didn't miss her girls but she could go for periods where the ache was dull and distant. Whenever she thought of Lizzie and Mika, it was painful because of the horrifying way that she had lost them. Talking to Daryl, inviting him into that tragic moment, had helped tremendously. Whenever her thoughts were focused on Sophia, it was something else entirely. Sometimes the memory of their past was a beautiful escape, remembering her little angel's smile was often the push Carol needed to be the one that everyone depended on. Sometimes though, the reminders were so gut wrenching, it would take her breath away, the very image of Sophia could make it feel like her heart was being ripped from her chest and crushed.

There was a knock at her door and Carol sat up taller, putting on her game face. A habit that she seemed to be able to do more quickly and easily as time passed.

She cleared her throat, "Come in."

The door opened and Daryl stepped in, closing it behind him. Of course it would be Daryl.

"Y'alright?"

"I'm fine." She stood, avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry. I was such a klutz with the glass – my god – what a mess. Carl's friend probably thinks I'm nuts -"

"Carol." His tone stopped her rambling. It was gentle and caring and she knew he understood exactly what had happened downstairs.

Her knees immediately grew weak and she once again found herself unable to stand. She collapsed back on the bed and buried her head in her hands, no longer able to stop the tears that had threatened earlier.

"Sophia would have been a teenager," her voice was soft and muffled through her hands.

She felt the bed shift, the heat from Daryl's body warming her.

"We probably would have been fighting. That's what mothers and teenage daughters do or so I've been told. You all dodged a bullet there." She laughed but there was no humour in it.

Daryl wrapped his hand around hers, his touch warm and tender. She closed her eyes at the contact and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"This alright?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

She nodded, unable to speak right away and she turned her hand so she could entwine her fingers with his.

They sat in silence, side by side and hand in hand, for a few moments, which allowed Carol sometime to compose herself.

"Sometimes I miss her so much it's like my heart's in this vice and it's just – it's squeezing the life out of me. I just – I wish – I wish I could have - " she paused, her throat tightening. Could have what? Done more for Sophia when she was younger? Been a better mother? Saved her - ?

Daryl's grip tightened, "You were a great momma to Sophia – to the girls. Best one I ever known. Don't you ever doubt that."

Her bottom lip trembled as she gazed into the cloudy blue eyes that watched her with such love that it stole her breath away. She reached out and caressed his cheek and she felt him lean slightly into her touch.

"This life has been so full of heartache and pain," she murmured, "but everything that's happened - it's led me to you – and for that...I will be eternally grateful."

Daryl blinked rapidly, a sheen of moisture glistened in his eyes, "I – I ain't no prize."

"Stop that," she ordered, her hand pushed his cheek back toward her as he attempted to break away from her gaze. "You always sell yourself short. You have more integrity – more honour, in your finger than most people have in their entire body."

"You deserve more."

She pulled her hand out of his so she could cup his face, forcing him to remain looking at her. "I have everything I need - right here in front of me."

She recoiled when she saw fear flash across his features. When she wasn't running away from her own emotions she often pushed those around her too hard to face theirs. Was that what she was doing now? She needed to reel it in, let Daryl take the lead on this. "But if you don't – if you don't feel that way," she stuttered, "I'll never mention it again. Your friendship – us – it's too important to me. I can't lose that."

She stood abruptly, her heart hammering in her chest. Her feelings for him, mixed with her emotional outburst in the kitchen earlier had compromised her ability to think straight. She need space, she needed to give Daryl space. Before she could step away Daryl grabbed her wrist.

"That day in the woods outside Terminus," his voice quivered, "when I saw y'standin' there, it was like I could finally breathe again. Didn't even know I wasn't breathin' til I saw you." He sat staring at her hand, his thumb grazed back and forth across her wrist. Her stomach fluttered from his touch and from the words he spoke. He took a deep breath and met her gaze, "I need you like I need air."

"I'm here," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Ain't got no fuckin' clue how to do this."

"I don't either," she admitted, sinking back beside him, moving her hand so their fingers could interlace once again. "We'll go slow – we'll figure it out...together."

Daryl leaned toward her, his body trembling and he caressed her cheek with his own. His stubble was surprisingly smooth yet prickly and she hummed at the pleasure the contrast made her feel. Every cell in her body was awakening at the feel of his touch. She couldn't remember ever sharing a more intimate moment with someone before.

"Can't stop thinkin' about you," Daryl breathed against her ear. "Scares the hell out of me."

She sharply inhaled as his lips grazed the corner of her mouth.

"I'm scared too," she whispered, "but I've never been more sure. I want this...I want you."

A soft groan echoed from Daryl and then his lips were on hers.

The kiss was gentle, his lips just barely connecting with hers, soft and warm, and so unbelievably beautiful. His fingers ghosted along the back of her neck almost as if he were unsure if he should touch her. She shivered when he finally made contact, his calloused hand rough against the smoothness of her neck, the feeling igniting a flame in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers curled around the edge of his vest and she could feel the beat of his heart, fast and erratic and completely in tune with hers.

Just as quickly as he initiated, he was pulling back. She whimpered at the loss and he nuzzled his nose against hers reassuring her he wasn't going anywhere.

She slowly opened her eyes and her breath caught at the sight of him. He looked awestruck, his bottom lip trembled and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. She squeezed his hand and rested her forehead against his and they sat together in silence, lost in the monumental moment they had just shared.

The kiss had not been the desperate, passion fueled kiss like it had been that day in the barn, yet it was so much more. It was a whisper of a promise, a commitment to one another. It was a vow, that whatever they faced in this world from now on they would do it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Means a lot!   
> Would love to know what you thought! 
> 
> Huge thanks to Jen for being my beta! She rocks!


	6. A Time to Build

Ripping open the box, a cloud of dust blew into her face causing her to cough. She peaked inside and laughed lightly, delighted by all the contents. Chest tubes, scalpels, needles, syringes and other various surgical instruments. It was a smorgasbord of much needed medical supplies.

Glenn and a few others from Alexandria had just returned that morning from a run to a hospital a few towns over. It had been very successful.

Carol had insisted Maggie go home and spend time with Glenn when she had shown up to help with the inventory and organization of the new items. Elizabeth and Brenda had left about an hour earlier, exhausted after two days straight of caring for patients. That left her, Harold and Ashley manning the inventory.

"Here's another box of gauze and bandages." Harold entered, carrying a fairly large box. He placed it on the table beside the shelf where Carol had been cataloguing all they had.

"Oh great. Thanks."

He didn't leave right away, moving to open the box he had just set down. She had thought it might be awkward working with him after she had turned down his offer of joining him for dinner. Much to her relief, it hadn't been. Nothing had changed at all in their professional relationship and she was quite pleased to still consider him a friend.

"How have you been?" he asked, moving passed her to put some bandages on the shelf. He smelt heavy of cologne and it surprised her. Who wore cologne these days? It was just yet another reminder that Harold had no real idea of what the world was like outside of these walls. Everyone liked to hold unto something she supposed.

"You seem...happy," he smiled, his eyes crinkling from the gesture.

"I am," she replied, returning his smile.

"Good."

They worked in silence, unpacking and rearranging the many shelves that aligned the walls in the tiny room.

She turned sharply towards the door at the sound of a throat being cleared and her eyes widened.

"Daryl!" She exclaimed, stunned to see him at the clinic of all places. "What are you doing here?" She noticed the bloody rag wrapped around his palm and her heart dropped.

"Your hand!" She rushed forward and carefully took hold of his hand and examined the injury. Her pulse raced, fear surrounding her. "What happened? Are you alright?"

He scoffed, "M'fine. It was stupid. Got my hand stuck in that wire fence Rick and I are workin' on. It's jus' a little cut."

She levelled him with a stare that said it wasn't fine and he shrugged his shoulders, chewing at the pad of his thumb nervously.

"Do you need me to take a look?" Harold moved in closer.

She felt Daryl stiffen and she caressed his hand with her thumb in a gesture she hoped was reassuring.

"No, I can take care of it. Thanks." She smiled once again at the doctor before leading Daryl into one of the examination rooms.

She went to the sink, filling a bowl with water. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Daryl fidgeting. He walked around the room, his hand reaching out to fiddle with some of the instruments that sat on a nearby table. A couple of weeks had passed since the kiss they had shared in her room. There had been a few more since then but it had all been very PG-13. Their schedules didn't leave much time for  _making out,_  but still the last little while had been nice.  _No_ , her mind disagreed, it had been damn near perfect. Those small moments with Daryl made her feel things she hadn't felt in years, things she never thought she would feel again. No one else in their group were aware that their relationship now included kissing and that suited Carol just fine.

"I'm surprised you came to the clinic for this. I figured you'd have to be at least missing some fingers." She smiled and gestured to the exam table that was set up in the middle of the room. "Sit."

He grunted and rolled his eyes, situating himself on the table. She took his hand and started to unwrap the bloody cloth that had been serving to protect his wound.

"Maggie was fussin'. Kept yappin' 'bout gettin' it looked at." He met her gaze and his eyes immediately flicked to the corner of the room and his voice quietened. "She wouldn't shut-up 'bout you and the ole doc bein' all 'lone here and shit."

She hummed and couldn't help her smile from widening at the true reason behind Daryl's impromptu visit to the clinic. When it wasn't surrounded by self- doubt and uncertainty, Daryl's jealousy was very flattering and sweet.

"We're doing inventory. Ashley's here too."

She dipped a cloth into the basin of water and squeezed it out before she gently started to wash away the dried blood and grime that had crusted around the injury.

"I ain't jealous."

Her eyebrows arched, "Of course not."

He huffed in annoyance at her teasing tone, wincing slightly when she brushed over a tender spot on his hand with the cloth.

He sat in silence for a few moments, watching her tend to his wound, his leg bouncing.

"Does he have to smell so fuckin' good?"

His words caught her completely off guard and a bubble of laughter rose up her throat. The noise that passed through her lips was hardly lady-like. She covered her mouth attempting to suppress her chortling.

The corner of Daryl's mouth lifted and his eyes shone a little brighter.

"It's the fuckin' end of the world, don't have to smell like you stepped off the cover of a god damn magazine."

She pursed her lips, "Aw pookie, I like the way  _you_  smell."

He snorted, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, lingering for a moment before making a show of breathing him in.

"Yeah," she whispered pulling back, "definitely more to my liking."

Daryl's cheeks pinked, a small grin graced his face and he ducked his head bashfully.

She bit her lower lip trying to stifle her own smile. The affection she felt for him wrapped around her like a blanket making her feel warm and content.

She placed the cloth back in the basin and moved in closer to examine the cut.

"So what's the call doc? M' I gonna survive?"

"It's not too deep. You've had worse. I can put a couple stitches in it to close it up a bit."

Daryl nodded his consent and she turned to sterilize the needle and grab the thread.

Turning back to him, she took hold of his hand and pushed the needle as tenderly as she could through his skin and began to thread the wound closed.

"I could have done this at home," she said, watching him closely. She was glad he had come but it was unlike him to seek help for this minor of an injury. She knew there was more to him being there than just a little jealousy.

He stayed silent and she figured that she wasn't going to get an answer.

She startled slightly when his uninjured hand reached out and gripped her waist, his fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. Her pulse sped up. Even when they kissed Daryl rarely touched her. It was almost like he was afraid that he would hurt her somehow. A touch like this was foreign territory for them and it had her stomach fluttering.

"Wanted to see you," he admitted quietly. "I - I missed you."

His thumb managed to slip under her shirt where it had come untucked and he softly stroked her bare skin leaving a fire trailing in the wake of his touch. The callouses on his fingertips were rough against her skin, causing her to shiver and her breathing to grow more ragged, little jolts of pleasure reverberated through her. She paused her stitching, inhaling and exhaling, slowly attempting to regain control of her body's obvious reaction.

"You're – distracting me."

He caught her eye and raised his eyebrows in a look that screamed, ' _who me_?' With a sly grin he edged his hand further up her shirt, his fingers coasting along her stomach. Every nerve in her body screamed in exhilaration and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest it was making it more and more difficult to concentrate.

"You're going to make me mess up."

"It'd be worth it."

"Daryl!"

He chuckled and she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips in response. He hadn't looked this relaxed, this carefree, since the early days at the prison. Before Merle, before Woodbury and the Governor, before the sickness that had raged through their home and stolen any shred of happiness that had remained. She wondered if this new found mellowness was influenced by her, by their new-found relationship. She hoped it was.

"It's only fair," he mumbled, his hand still gloriously settled on her stomach, the movement of his fingertips creating goosebumps on her skin. "You were distractin' me at breakfast this mornin'."

Her eyebrows furrowed, "What?" she questioned on a breathy laugh, confused, the feelings his touch produced was making her light-headed. She tried to think about what she had done that morning to distract him. Everyone had been present to eat, Rick, Michonne and the kids, which meant she hadn't teased him or touched him or done anything out of the ordinary. "I just cooked and ate...everything I normally do."

His eyes bore into hers, they were dark and full of such yearning it startled her. "Exactly," he said, his voice gruff and gravely and extremely provocative.

She ducked her head, quickly averting her eyes back to the needle and thread, various thoughts and feelings whirling around her mind like a fucked up tornado. She was shocked,  _dumbfounded_ , that he found her enticing even when she was just regular ole Carol.

Her hand trembled slightly as she quickly finished the last stitch and tied it off. She cleared her throat, attempting to focus before taking a breath and finding the nerve to lift her gaze to his once more. "There. All done."

"Looks good," he mumbled, yet his eyes never wandered from her face. She found herself locked in his stare, everything else fading away except for the stormy, hooded eyes that were so intently focused on her.

"You didn't even look at it," she whispered.

He hummed, pulling her a little closer, "Wanna get outta here?"

Her heart skipped and she nodded, "Yeah."

She wasn't sure how she had managed to leave with no questions asked. There were still several boxes of items to sort through, but Harold had simply wished them a good night and they had left with anticipation hanging in the air.

The sun had just started to set, casting the sky in brilliant hues of pinks and reds and oranges but Carol didn't take notice, her entire mind and body consumed with Daryl, keenly aware of every move and every sound he was making.

Their footsteps were rushed and very little space separated them as they walked, their arms constantly brushing together, each stroke heightening the urgency to get home. A new tension crackled in the air between them, a hunger so strong Carol could scarcely breathe.

Daryl panted beside her, the exertion of their movement not at all the reason for his breathlessness and knowing that he was just as effected as she had arousal churning in the pit of her stomach.

They rounded the corner, still several blocks from their home. A few people were out for a walk and the laughter of children playing soccer across the way floated through the air, but nothing registered with her aside from the fact that she never realized how damn far they lived away from the clinic.

Daryl let out a low impatient growl. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him into the small space resting between a house and garden shed, successfully hiding them from the world of Alexandria.

They stood pressed together, their bodies flush. She watched him with wide eyes, dazed. She felt dizzy and her breathing was erratic and loud to her own ears. He looked unsure, worrying his bottom lip, his chest heaving. His hand hovered over her, uncertainty written across his features. Her breath caught in her throat when it finally slid under her shirt returning to that deliciously sensitive spot on her waist, his fingers once again trailing feather-like caresses along her rib cage. She didn't dare move, afraid that if she even shifted or made a sound, the spell they had been cast under would be broken.

"You're so beautiful." he whispered, his voice low and husky. He was looking at her like she was his entire world.

Tears filled her eyes, she was overwhelmed by the emotions that were coursing through her. Beautiful was not a term she would use to describe herself. Maggie was beautiful. Rosita and Tara and Sasha, they were beautiful. Not her.

She took a shaky breath, "I thought you said you weren't good at this romance shit?"

She gasped in surprise when he pushed her back against the wall. He met her eyes with a new-found confidence and then he was kissing her. His tongue swiped along her lower lip and she immediately opened to him, moaning when their tongues finally met.

He tasted like nutmeg, likely from the pumpkin pie she had baked the previous day, with just a hint of tobacco and she couldn't remember ever tasting something so palatable.

She weaved her fingers through his hair, forcing his head closer and deepened the kiss, craving more of his unique taste. His free hand slowly travelled down her back and she hummed with pleasure when he cupped her ass and pulled her so their hips were flush, his arousal hard and pressing against her thigh. Her stomach clenched, overwhelmed by the evidence of him wanting her and she couldn't believe how wet she was already, how desperately she wanted him as well. She thrust against him again, grinding her hips into his, her primal need leading her. Daryl pulled back, breaking the kiss, a low groan falling from his lips.

"Are you guys kissing?"

Daryl stumbled back, crashing into the side of the shed. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, panting heavily.

Carol awkwardly smoothed her shirt down, inhaling and exhaling slowly, attempting to slow her racing heart. She looked down at a small, blonde haired boy who looked to be five, maybe six years old. He stood watching them curiously holding a soccer ball in his hands, covered with dirt from head to toe.

"Mommy says that people kiss when they love each other. Do you love each other?"

Daryl mumbled something under his breath that sounded very similar to  _fuck_. He pushed off the wall and took a step towards the boy. "Why you here kid?"

"This is my house. Why are you here? Are you making babies?"

Daryl groaned in frustration, his cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red and Carol couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

She reached out and gripped Daryl's bicep, looking down at the child. "We were just heading home, sorry we interrupted your soccer game."

The boy shrugged, "That's OK." He waved his hand, shouting bye as he ran back to his game.

Carol fell back against the wall, her hand still grasping Daryl. She shut her eyes and focused on breathing and getting her heart back to a slower, more normal, speed. The kid had been a much needed bucket of cold water,  _this_ was not something she wanted to happen outside, against some random wall, but still she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

She watched Daryl as he attempted to catch his own breath. His hand moved over his face and pulled at his goatee before he looked towards her, his eyes rapidly shifting, nervous to make eye contact.

Her hand slid down his arm and she interlaced their fingers together, pulling him slightly, "Come on," she smiled. "Let's go home."

They walked in comfortable silence the rest of the way, their hands still intertwined. The air was no longer laced with the lustful tension that had previously surrounded them, yet something still lingered there. Contentment? Love? It was something that Carol didn't quite want to give a name to yet, old insecurities giving her pause, Ed's words from the past still echoed in her mind,  _no one could ever love you_. She did her best to ignore it and concentrate only on the warmth of Daryl's hand.

When they finally reached their home, they walked up the porch steps and Daryl held the door open for her.

"Carol! Daryl! Is that you? You guys got to come see this!" Carl's voice drifted in from the other room, it was loud and laced with excitement.

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me," Daryl mumbled under his breath, causing her to snort.

"It's us," she called back, giving Daryl a saucy wink before she went to see what all the commotion was about.

Everyone was there, the entire family. Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, Rosita, Tara – everyone. Rick and Carl sat on the floor, a giggling Judith bouncing in front of Rick, her little fingers wrapped around his hands.

"Watch!" Carl demanded, his eyes shining brightly. He stuck his arms out, wiggling his own fingers causing Judith to squeal with delight. "Come to your big brother," he coaxed her, speaking in his best baby voice.

Carol gasped when Judith took a shaky step forward, letting go of Rick's hands. She took another step and another and Carol's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with happy tears for the second time that day.

On Judith's forth step, her balance wavered. She swayed back and forth on her feet and Carol fought the motherly instinct to rush to her side.

"You got this Jud – you got this," Carl encouraged. Judith steadied herself and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. She grinned at her success and took the last step into Carl's waiting embrace.

The room filled with cheers and clapping and Carl lifted his sister high in the air making her scream in excitement.

"She looked like a tiny drunken sailor," Tara exclaimed, laughing.

"This deserves a drink to celebrate," Michonne stood, a huge smile on her face, clasping a hand on Rick's shoulder. His grin was absolutely stunning, it almost took Carol's breath away. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen a genuine smile from the man.

"I'll help," Maggie said, following her into the kitchen.

Carol turned to find Daryl watching her, his smile a perfect reflection of hers.

"Not a bad way to end a day," she murmured.

"Yeah, it's pretty great."

His fingers trailed down her arm in a tender caress and then he moved to help Maggie bring in some glasses. "Let's get this party started!" His bellow was met with an uproar of cheering.

Looking around the room, Carol watched the people she loved, laughing and drinking. Maggie and Glenn sat on the window seat curled together, absorbed in nothing but one another. Tara and Noah were amidst some strange version of a thumb war and Rosita was draped across Abraham's lap, both of them teasing Eugene about something that had happened earlier that day. Sasha and Gabriel chatted quietly while sipping some of the wine Michonne had just poured and Daryl sat on the floor with Rick and Carl doing his best to teach Judith how to high-five.

Michonne's hand wrapped around Carol's arm, passing her a glass. "You coming?" She smiled.

"Wouldn't miss it."

She followed Michonne further into the room sitting on the chair just in front of where Daryl and the others sat on the floor, simply content to watch.

Eventually Daryl leaned back against her chair, still grinning at Judith's goofy antics. She resisted the urge to weave her fingers through his hair, knowing that a touch like that would give the others reason to gossip and she didn't want to push Daryl into defining this thing between them to everyone else, especially when it was something they hadn't even figured out for themselves.

It wasn't long and she felt Daryl's pinky slide along her toe. She bit her lip, fighting against a smile when she realized the move had been deliberate when the light caresses continued.

She closed her eyes, relishing his touch and the truth it held. Ed was wrong, there were people that loved her. She rested her hand lightly against Daryl's neck, his pulse steady beneath her fingertips and she let some of her old insecurities fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the continued support! It means a lot!
> 
> Big thanks to Jen for continuing to be my beta. Hugs!


	7. A Time to Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. I started back to work, and just haven't felt like writing lately. Plus, side note, I've met Norman Reedus since the last update! Message me if you want deets! I was very excited and he is a really sweet guy. Next up, Melissa McBride hopefully!
> 
> Y'all probably want to thank my beta Jen for encouraging me to lengthen certain aspects of this chapter. I don't want to give anything away but it rhymes with mexy limes! Thanks Jen for all your help.
> 
> Still don't own The Walking Dead. *sigh*
> 
> Enjoy!

The moon seemed extra bright, its glow flooding the room in light. A cool gentle breeze had the curtains fluttering causing shadows to dance along the wall. She closed her eyes tightly, burying her head further into her pillow listening to Judith's faint cries through the baby monitor. She was warm and comfortable and her body was resisting the pull to consciousness. She pushed herself to sit, the carpet smooth and silky, threading through her toes. It was still such a strange sensation to be once again barefoot in the world. Wearing shoes, being prepared to run at every moment of the day, had often been the difference between life or death. Never again would she take even those small things in life for granted.

Judith's restlessness began to grow. Carol stood and started to make her way across her room, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. Judith, like them all, suffered from uneven sleep patterns, still not accustomed to the 'normalcy' of Alexandria, a baby used to only a life on the run.

Anxiousness rolled in the pit of her stomach as she neared Judith's room. Ever since the Grove she had tried to avoid those vulnerable moments with Judith, moments where both she and the baby were between sleep and consciousness. Carol knew it was in those moments where the walls she had worked hard to build would begin to crumble. She loved that little girl so wholly that it frightened her and because of that she did her best to keep Judith at arms length. She had to distance herself, afraid to commit to the feelings one hundred percent, afraid to lose another child she loved.

Tonight it had been unavoidable though. Rick and Michonne were dealing with an incident with some walkers outside of the gates, Carl was spending the night with new found friends and Daryl had just returned a few hours earlier from a run and had went to bed, needing the rest. That left Carol to care for Judith.

She arrived at Judith's room and paused, taking a steadying breath, readying herself, preparing her heart. It was then she registered the silence, only the songs of tree frogs outside echoed down the hall. Judith must have fallen back to sleep.

She heard low mumbling come from the room and her heart dropped, all of her senses on high alert, now completely awake. Judith wasn't alone. She reached for her knife and silently cursed when her hand came up empty. What the hell had she been thinking? She should never let her guard down and be caught without a weapon. She should always be prepared.

She slowly leaned her head forward, peeking into the room and the tension drained completely from her body.

 _Daryl_. He stood holding Judith, her head resting on his shoulder and his nose nuzzling her chubby cheek as he whispered soft assurances into her ear. Judith's small fingers curled in Daryl's hair and she giggled softly when Daryl tickled her side. Carol had never seen Daryl so relaxed. Gone were his torn jeans and his angel-winged vest, in their place were a pair of green checkered pajama bottoms and a plain navy t-shirt. His body swayed back and forth, rocking the little girl, sharing their own private dance. He was a complete natural.

Her heart clenched and it felt like it was swelling, aching with regret, and with want, and with so much love she could hardly stand it. She took a step back needing to remove herself from the intense feelings that were consuming her, the strength of them so overwhelming it terrified her.

The floor creaked with her movement and Daryl's head snapped up, his eyes locking with hers. Relief flooded his expression and his gaze softened, a small grin lighting up his face making her heart flutter.

"Hey," he drawled quietly.

"Hi," she whispered, the corners of her mouth lifting.

Judith's head popped up and quickly turned towards the door. A sleepy smile spread across her face and her eyes danced with delight. She stretched out her arms, reaching out to Carol.

"Ca-wo," her soft voice floated across the room.

Unbidden tears came to Carol's eyes, her walls starting to crumble at the sight of the cherubic face.

"Ca-wo," Judith tried again, her tiny fingers wiggling, almost like she was entrancing her with some magical pull. Perhaps she was, Carol mused.

"Come on Ca-wo," Daryl's voice rumbled, drawing her gaze to him like a moth to a flame. His eyes simmered, dark and inviting, "Dance with us."

Unable to resist the two faces that she cared for,  _loved,_ most in this world, she walked across the plush floor accepting the squirmy girl in her embrace. Judith's arms instantly wrapped around Carol, her face burrowing against her neck. Carol brushed her lips along the baby's temple breathing in her scent. She smelt just like Sophia used to, a mixture of powder and uniquely baby. As Judith mumbled ' _Ca-wo'_  sleepily into her neck she found that that smell, that the emotions she felt, didn't quite sting like they had in the past.

Her breath caught when she felt Daryl's hand rest on her waist. He stepped closer, his cheek ghosting against hers, "Was hopin' we wouldn't wake ya," he quietly muttered into her ear.

"You're the one that should be sleeping, you just got back." Her shaky voice betrayed the mask of calm she was trying to present with him being so close.

"Wasn't tired, 'sides seein' Lil' Ass-kicker helps settle me." The sincerity and emotion behind the statement caused her heart to surge with love and she leaned in to press her lips to his. He hummed in surprise but as she retreated he pulled her back deepening their connection with a practised ease that had her heart picking up speed.

For the next several moments the three of them stood wrapped around one another slowly swaying to the music of the night.

* * *

Once Judith had fallen asleep once more, Carol and Daryl walked down the hall together, the tension simmering between them, growing stronger as they neared her bedroom. They reached the door and exchanged a few quick, shy glances. Want stirred inside her. It had been flourishing for weeks now. She had only ever been with two men, Bobby Reinhardt, her high-school sweetheart, and Ed. The former had been a summer of innocence and curiosity and the latter...the latter had turned out to be torture and destruction. Her entire relationship with Daryl was something else entirely, it made her feel things differently. She was more at ease and felt more cherished than she had ever felt before.

She cleared her throat, "It's...pretty late."

"Yeah." Daryl's sock covered toes twisted in the carpet, eyes fixed on his moving foot, his whole demeanour showcasing his anxiety.

"Do you want to come in?" The words slipped out of her mouth before she could fully realize the monumental question she had just posed. The meaning was clear and her face flushed with embarrassment. She had told herself that she would let Daryl lead on this and here she was practically throwing herself at him.

"Oh God – I didn't mean – You don't have to – I -"

"I wanna." His two words silenced her rambling and the intensity of his stare had her knees feeling weak. This was happening.

She wasn't sure how she had managed to walk, her legs were trembling and her heart felt like it was going to leap right out of her chest, it was almost painful in its rhythm. When she reached her bed she sat down to prevent herself from falling over. She fidgeted with her pajama pants, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles out of them. She used the moment to focus on breathing, attempting to calm down before her gaze found Daryl's once more. She noticed that he hadn't followed her to the bed. He stood awkwardly by the door staring at her, his expression a mirror of her own, anxious, uncertain and full of desire. Her heart skipped and her nerves settled somewhat knowing she wasn't alone in what she was feeling.

She gestured to the bed, "Do you want to sit?"

His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed and he nodded his head. It felt like he approached her in slow motion, with each step closer her arousal stirred. For the longest time she tried not to dwell on it, but Daryl Dixon was a very sexy man and he wasn't even aware of it, which made him even sexier. The bed shifted as he sat next to her. Close but not touching. She ached to touch him. His leg bounced causing the entire bed to shake, she reached out and placed her hand on his knee causing him to jump, like her touch had electrified him. His leg stilled and his gaze locked in on her hand.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," she quietly assured him.

He looked at her then and she fought back a gasp. His expression was haunted, the demons of his own past pushing to the surface.

"I don't wanna hurt ya."

Tears welled in her eyes. To have someone care about her and be that worried about her well being, was hard to wrap her brain around. She grabbed his hand and brushed her lips across his knuckles. "You couldn't," she whispered.

His eyes closed and he leaned his head on her shoulder, she shivered when his lips pressed against her bare skin, his pinkie lightly stroking her wrist.

With a boldness that surprised her, she pulled back from him and lifted her tank top over her head leaving herself bare from the waist up.

Daryl visibly swallowed, his gaze dark and hungry, his eyes feasting on her breasts.

There were many times over the last couple of years where Daryl could have seen her naked, the close quarters they shared often forced the issue, but in those times it held an air of modesty. This was the first time her nakedness had been done with intention, done solely for the purpose to be intimate with Daryl. She couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her body. This was the most fit she had been in her entire life and having access to regular meals had filled her in once more. Her breasts were far from the size of those models in the magazines that Ed kept stashed under their bed but they had always suited her just fine. In a brief moment of self-consciousness she fretted over whether they were good enough.

Her breath hitched and the worry floated away as Daryl's finger gently grazed the underside of her breast, his eyes lingering on the burn mark that marred her skin there.

"Showed too much cleavage at a dinner with Ed's boss. Ed was teaching me a lesson about vanity."

Daryl growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing in anger. She threaded her fingers in his hair, lightly massaging his scalp.

"He can't hurt me anymore," she softly reassured him. And it was true. Ed couldn't hurt her anymore. Not physically and not emotionally. The nightmares that featured him had stopped a long time ago. Daryl had shown her what true love was supposed to look like and he had made her feel worthy of it.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the scar. Her eyes drifted close as he lingered, his nose nuzzling the side of her breast. Her breathing grew erratic as his mouth trailed upward, his movement was shy and tentative but it had her pulse racing. His tongue flicked over her nipple before his mouth took control, sucking and kissing. He palmed her other breast, his calloused hands on her sensitive skin had her writhing in pleasure. Her head fell back and she couldn't help the moan that passed through her lips, the sensations that were coursing through her body were foreign to her, it had been so long. She grabbed the loose bedsheets, her grip tightening as Daryl's mouth switched to her other breast. Her hand curled in his hair, pushing his head closer to her, urging his explorations.

Finally his touch, the pleasures that he was producing, became too much and she tugged at his hair, pulling him up to her. He came willingly, their lips meeting in a sloppy, needy kiss, their hands groping, like two teenagers that had just discovered sex.

The need to feel his skin against hers became unbearable. She grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt to aid in getting it off of his body. Daryl broke the kiss and his hands enclosed around hers, stopping her movement. She looked at him questioningly, their breaths heavy, mingling together in the small space between them. He looked ashamed and it hit her immediately,  _his scars._  For as long as she had known him, Daryl had always made sure he was never without a shirt covering his back. The only time she could recall seeing him without one, was that time when he was injured at the farm.

She leaned in and kissed the side of his mouth, "We can leave it."

She understood the shame that accompanied scars and bruises that had been left on your skin by those who were supposed to love you. She would wait for as long as he needed to grow comfortable with sharing them with her.

Their eyes remained locked and Carol focused all her energy on showing him exactly how she felt through her gaze. His expression changed and her heart began that familiar flutter while she watched him discard his shirt, throwing it onto the floor to rest beside hers. He was a sight to behold, broad shoulders, defined abs, chest hair that had only been teased when he walked around in the heat with his top buttons undone. She reached out to touch him, moving slowly, giving him enough time to stop her if he needed.

His chest was warm and smooth and she could feel the steady pounding of his heart as her fingers danced over his skin. Her hand slid downwards, trailing over his abs, her thumb caressing his belly button. She felt him shiver and she watched mesmerized as goose pimples appeared on his skin in her hands wake. In her explorations, she noticed three or four scars on his chest but her eyes locked on one in particular that had her heart spinning.

Her fingertips tenderly coasted around the edges of the scar on his lower abdomen where the arrow had pierced through his skin. Clear evidence of the lengths he had gone to in searching for her baby girl.

Her chest tighten and she was consumed with love for him, for the man he had been then and for the man he was now.  _'I love you'_  hovered at the end of her tongue. Her heart screamed at her to tell him but her mind warned her that he may not be ready so she swallowed the urge, burying it in the pile of things left unsaid.

She lowered her head and placed a kiss over the scar, vowing to herself that she would show Daryl with her actions how she felt, how much she loved him They had never needed words to communicate before.

His breath hitched when her lips made contact with his skin and he breathed her name, whispering it like it was a prayer.

He urged her back to him, their lips meeting once again, fervently, the rest of their clothes disappearing in a haze of passion. He pushed her back on the bed, his body hovering over hers. He stared at her, his gaze searing and intense.

"Yer beautiful," he muttered, his voice husky with arousal.

Carol surged forward and kissed him hungrily, pulling him back down with her. His lips moved to the hollow of her neck and she whimpered when his teeth nipped at her skin there, immediately licking to soothe the sting. It would for sure leave a mark and Carol found the very notion of being marked by Daryl extremely thrilling. Her head lolled to the side to grant him better access. She swallowed down a moan when his tongue slid up her neck and his teeth scraped against her ear, his mouth trailing along her jawline, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses.

Her hands wanted to be everywhere, she slid them through his hair, down his back and over his ass, etching every inch of his skin into her memory. The evidence of how much he wanted her was pressed against her thigh and heat pooled between her legs with the knowledge of how this was effecting him. The pressure that had built had become almost unbearable, she arched her back, lifting her hips, grinding against his leg. She moaned, low and hoarse, as pleasure flowed through her, her entire body crackling with desire. Daryl answered her moan with one of his own, grinding his erection against her leg, his mouth crashing back to hers.

She reached out wanting to hold him, wanting to elicit the same pleasure that he had been bestowing upon her. Her thumb grazed his tip and he choked out a groan. She gasped, surprised when he pulled back, his lips breaking from hers and his hands roughly grasping her wrists.

She laid there paralyzed, her eyes wide, afraid. She must have screwed up, done something wrong. She was so stupid. Daryl didn't want her touching him in that way. Memories of Ed berating her and her lack of skills in the bedroom bombarded her and her body tensed on instinct, waiting for the strike. She knew Daryl would never hurt her in that way but old habits had a way of sneaking up on her. It seemed that perhaps Ed  _did_  still have the capability to cause her pain.

Daryl must have sensed her apprehension and he immediately let go of her wrists and his finger grazed her cheek.

"If you do that, I ain't goin' last long," he mumbled, his chest still heaving.

His lips grazed along her collarbone but her body betrayed her by not reacting to his touch. The damage had been done, she had clammed up. Her own insecurities from Ed's years of demeaning words and actions acting as her enemy.

Frustrated tears sprung to her eyes, "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice catching.

"Hey," Daryl held her chin and gently turned her to look at him. "We don't have t'do anything you don't wanna," he said, repeating her words back to her from earlier.

She shook her head, "I want to – so much," she felt the need to explain, "I just haven't since Ed and that was never -" her words died off, not wanting to spend anytime lost in those memories.

Daryl leaned down, catching her gaze once more, "I ain't ever done this with someone who mattered to me b'fore, someone I -" he swallowed, his eyes darting away from her and then returning, "someone I gave a shit about. I never felt good 'bout myself after those times and those - broads never had anything good to say 'bout me after either."

Carol desperately wanted to interrupt, tell him again what a good man he was, the need to comfort him always a priority, but she bit her lip allowing him the space to share his feelings. It was something that was so rare to begin with.

"Me 'n' you – this – it's d'ffer'nt an'" he took a deep breath, "it fuckin' scares the shit out of me but I wanna," he squinted, attempting to find the right words it seemed, "I wanna take care of ya."

Carol cleared her throat, attempting to ward off the fresh tears. Intimacy, especially between that of lovers, was not something to which they were accustomed. It was going to take time for them to move on from the scars of the past, to fully realize that someone could... _did_...love them so unconditionally. They had already come so far.

"I wanna make ya feel good," Daryl muttered. He was so earnest and her heart swelled at his eagerness to please her, she'd never had that before. "An' at anytime ya want me to stop – I will. Will ya let me try?"

She nodded her head and did her best to relax back against the pillows. She could do this, she  _wanted_  to do this. His fingers traced up her arm and his lips descended upon hers. The kisses were slow and lazy and she easily got lost in his gentle caresses once more. She hummed and her breath quickened when his fingers slid under her breast. His mouth descended on the other and she groaned as his tongue teased her nipple.

It didn't take long for the familiar ache to return between her legs, want churning in her stomach, Daryl's mouth now latched firmly on her neck doing incredible things. His hand trailed over her breast and down her stomach and she bit her lip in anticipation.

"This alright" his voice was low and she could tell he was not unaffected by the attention he was lavishing on her.

She nodded and let out a breathy ' _yes.'_

His hand continued on its path, torturing her in its slowness. She itched to grab a hold of him and force him to where she wanted him to be. She shivered and her eyes fluttered shut as his thumb glided over her belly button and she couldn't help her shaky exhale as his fingers slid through her curls. She gasped as his thumb lightly stroked against her clit, a jolt of pleasure ricocheting through her. Daryl's hand froze and she knew he was watching her, concerned if he had gone too far. She leaned forward and pressed a reassuring kiss to his lips. She definitely wanted this to continue, she was craving his touch.

That was the push Daryl needed and his fingers began to explore, his thumb rubbing her clit around and around making her body writhe and her stomach tightened. He was being careful, his touch gentle, the pressure he was applying was light, teasing her. She wanted more. She bucked her hips against his hand causing his thumb to press harder and she choked out a moan from the new wave of sensations she was experiencing. Daryl let out a low groan as he slid a finger through her folds, she was so wet, so ready. He withdrew his finger in an agonizingly slow manner and then added another of his fingers and pushed them back in and then out, over and over, in shallow, leisurely thrusts. She was squirming, her heart pounding in fast, hard beats and her ears buzzed. She moaned his name as he hit a particularly sensitive spot and his mouth latched back onto her neck, his groan making her body tremble.

"Do ya feel good?" He whispered against her ear, his teeth nipping at her earlobe.

" _Yes,_ " she hissed, her eyes squeezing shut, the pressure building between her thighs. "Yes," she repeated, nodding her head. She was so close. " _Faster,_ " she practically begged, her moan strangled and desperate.

Daryl grunted, clearly aroused, and he picked up the pace. His fingers sliding in and out more quickly, harder, her hips thrusting to match his movements.

His lips were sloppy against her throat, a strangled ' _Carol_ ' falling from his mouth pushing her over the edge. Her hips jerked and she cried out, her hands twisting in the bed-sheets in ecstasy, wave after wave of pleasure causing her entire body to shake.

Never had she experienced such tenderness, had someone so focused on making her feel such gratification before. Her lips sought out Daryl, wanting to show him how much it meant to her what he had just done. He had stepped out of his own comfort zone to help her get past her insecurities. He met her eagerly, pulling her close and laying next to him Carol had never felt more at peace.

* * *

She laid flat on her back, her breath heavy and her skin slick with sweat, her body humming in the glorious afterglow, recovering from the natural high. The rising sun, filled the room with light. She couldn't remember ever feeling this alive, this good.

She glanced over at Daryl, his chest also rising and falling in rapid succession. Her eyes roamed over his body, the bed sheet had been thrown haphazardly over his mid-section, revealing a very tantalizing V, his sharp muscular curves along with a very clear erection, succeeding in making her heart beat faster once again.

He turned to her, his anxieties clear on his face. "Y'alright?" His voice shook slightly.

"Yes," she nodded, whispering reassuringly, brushing a lock of his hair off of his forehead.

She edged closer to him, forcing eye contact. "I am so more than alright." Their eyes locked and Daryl visibly relaxed.

Her thumb caressed his jawline, his stubble rough on her skin.

Daryl nuzzled her hair, his lips ghosting along her temple.

She turned to meet his lips in a slow, sensual kiss. They took their time, simply enjoying one another. She pulled back, a grin spreading across her face and she moved to straddle him, her hand edging down his chest, closer to the evidence of his arousal.

"I think it's time I repay the favour?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a lustful smirk and he leaned forward to kiss her again. She didn't think she would ever tire of the feel of her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

"Carol, I'm so sorry to bother you this early, but Harold was – OH MY GOD!"

Carol yelped, flying off of Daryl at the sound of Maggie's voice. She pulled the blankets tightly around her chest, panting from both the activity she had been engaged in with Daryl and being startled.

Maggie stood by the door, turned away from them, her hand covering her eyes and Carol could tell by the wrinkles at her temple that her eyes were also squeezed tightly shut. She kept apologizing repeatedly.

Carol's own eyes closed.  _Oh God_. How embarrassing.

Finally Carol found her voice, "What did you need Maggie?" She was quite pleased at how sturdy and non-pulsed she sounded.

"Harold – he uh, wanted that paperwork on Mrs. Nelson you brought home to finish," Maggie stammered, "She has a follow-up at seven-thirty this morning."

Glancing down at her nakedness Carol knew that she would not be able to retrieve the file without embarrassing herself...and Maggie, further.

"It's in the top drawer of the filing cabinet – by the dresser – If you wouldn't mind getting it."

"Yes – right – of course," Maggie babbled, removing the hand from her eyes and edging along the wall, doing her best to avoid looking at the bed.

Carol glanced at Daryl, who hadn't moved or uttered a single sound since Maggie had interrupted. She had to bite her lip to prevent herself from smiling. He was slouched down in the bed, the bedsheets pulled up over his nose, his ears were the deepest shade of red she had ever seen.

Maggie made it back to the door and quickly glanced their way, "Uh, sorry again, I'll knock louder next time," she said, her accent thick and then a wide smile broke out over her face. "It's about damn time."

"Would ya get the fuck outta here Maggie," Daryl hollered, finally reaching his breaking point.

Maggie laughed, the sound light and airy, full of joy. She threw Carol a saucy wink and closed the door behind her as she left.

"Well...I guess the cat is out of the bag," Carol mused. She didn't find herself upset at that prospect. Everyone knew what Daryl meant to her, now it would just be more official, no more pretending.

Daryl groaned and rolled his face into the pillow, "Glenn's goin' have a fucking field day with this."

Her heart went out to him and she threaded her fingers through his hair, "I'm sorry," she soothed. She hated it when he felt uncomfortable or embarrassed, especially when she was part of the reason.

He shifted until he could comfortably look at her, the obvious sign of his previous state of excitement had vanished due to Maggie's surprise visit. Yet, there was a glimmer in his eyes that told her his interest in continuing in their  _very_  adult activities hadn't completely disappeared.

"S'alright," he drawled, his fingers grazing the side of her breast, "Was worth it."

A mischievous grin stretched slowly across his face. "Now what was this 'bout returnin' a favour?"

Carol snorted and leaned in to kiss him and they both jumped when Judith's cries rang out through the baby monitor.

They broke apart and Daryl groaned, realizing that it would be up to him to get himself off that morning.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"S'alright...I 'cept repayments at anytime."

She smacked his arm as she got out of bed, causing him to chuckle. Next time she would make it up to him because there was definitely going to be a next time and time was something Alexandria now gave them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I would love to know what you thought.
> 
> In the next chapter things are about to take a turn, time is something they may NOT have.


	8. A Time to Search - Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you to those who continue to read this! I'm not sure how many are reading but I sure do appreciate every kudos/review that you have given.
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than the others. I have broken 'A Time to Search' into multi-parts. This is the introduction, a transition chapter of sorts. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Thanks to Jen again for her sage advice.
> 
> I still own nothing in regards to Caryl or The Walking Dead.

 

_(Day One)_

Carol wasn't sure she had ever smiled this much in her entire life. For the last twelve hours, her grin had been a permanent fixture on her face. She couldn't stop thinking about earlier, the intimacy she and Daryl had shared, how he had been so patient and loving, stepping out of his comfort zone to ensure her demons were put to rest. And his hands, good lord his hands were – magic.

"With a smile like that, I'd think someone had their world rocked last night."

Carol fumbled the dish she held, catching it before it dropped to the ground.

"Maggie!" She spun around, her tone scolding, her eyes darting around ensuring that no one else had been within earshot.

Her face burned and she knew her cheeks would be crimson.

"Not sure the whole neighbourhood heard you," she deadpanned, setting the dish and rag down, turning to face the young woman.

Maggie's grin widened. She reached across the counter grabbing one of the pecan tarts Carol had just baked and swiftly settled onto one of the island's stools.

"Things were pretty hot and heavy this mornin'," she teased between bites of pastry.

"We are not talking about this," Carol muttered, grabbing a tart of her own and leaning against the counter. She closed her eyes, relishing the first bite, the custard melting in her mouth.

"Kill joy," Maggie mumbled, grabbing a second helping of the delicious treat.

"Was this your plan? Accost me while Glenn tortures Daryl out in the woods?"

"The traps needed to be checked. Daryl seemed like the perfect person to assist. Glenn insisted."

Carol groaned and dropped her head onto her hand. Poor Daryl. Glenn would show no mercy.

Carol lifted her head to meet Maggie's gaze at the sound of the young woman's laughter. "Glenn doesn't know."

"You didn't tell him?"

"Figured Daryl had been tortured enough, 'specially if the colour of his forehead peeking from beneath the bedsheets was any indication."

Relief flooded Carol. She reached out to grab Maggie's hand, "You're an angel!"

"This is a one day only pass. I'm not able to keep gossip this juicy quiet, 'specially from Glenn, for more than one day."

"Did somebody say gossip?" Both women turned to watch Michonne enter the kitchen.

Carol felt herself grow hot and she knew her face would be a similar shade as the red tank top she wore. Maggie had the decency to look apologetic but that did not erase the sparkle from her olive eyes.

Michonne grabbed a glass and filled it with water, her gaze going from Maggie and back to Carol. "Oh no, you are not leaving a girl hanging. Details. Spill."

Carol had never been one for teenage games, even as a teenager. She was a straight-shooter, not one to beat around the bush, especially in this world. Everyone was going to find out once Glenn knew anyway.

"Maggie walked in on Daryl and I this morning and- well – both of us were very naked at the time."

Michonne choked on the water she had just swallowed, her eyes growing wide.

"Noooooooo-" she drawled out, her gaze darting back and forth again between the two women, gauging to see if what she had been told was the truth.

"Oh yes." Maggie drawled. "I got quite the eyeful."

"Carol!" Michonne squealed and Carol couldn't stop the smile that spread at her friend's enthusiasm. "Finally!"

"Were we that obvious?"

"Good Lord woman, that man wears his heart on his damn sleeve. I knew from that first moment, chained to the bars of the prison, watching you all reunite. He couldn't take his eyes off of you and that rare Dixon smile never left his face."

Tears filled Carol's eyes. It was surreal how much time had passed, how much she and Daryl, and everyone, had been through together.

Michonne reached for her hand. "This is good. I am so happy for you both."

Maggie grabbed a hold of her as well, "Me too. You and Daryl – it just makes sense."

The three of them stood around the counter, holding unto one another, tears in all of their eyes. Carol marvelled at all that she was feeling. Female friendships were not something Ed had allowed and her heart swelled with love and gratitude for these two women. Her grip tightened on both of their hands, unable to form the right words to explain to them how much this, how much  _they_  meant to her.

Michonne leaned in, her eyes mischievous. "So what was it like? Daryl can be quite feral at times, did he use that to his advantage?"

Carol coughed and then snorted, taken by surprise at Michonne's frankness. Maggie's laughter floated around them.

Michonne tilted her head, her expression serious, but her eyes sparkling, "I'm going to need details girl, Lord knows I haven't been getting any action."

A cough from the doorway interrupted their laughter. Rick stood there, a mask of calm to anyone who didn't know him, but his haunted expression did not go missed by all three of the women. Levity died immediately as tension flooded the room. Fear clawed at Carol's heart. Something bad had happened.

"Rick," Michonne spoke into the strained silence, urging the man to talk.

Rick cleared his throat, locking eyes with Michonne for a beat before turning his attention to Maggie and Carol.

"Glenn, Daryl and their team have missed three check-ins."

Carol felt herself nod, it was an automatic response, an impulse. Daryl always checked in, but there were times he had been unable to; a radio malfunction, a large herd passing by and he was forced into silence. Missing three check-ins meant the team had been radio silent for over five hours. That was rare these days, but not unheard of.

"Did you send out a team?" Michonne asked.

Rick nodded, "Abraham and myself checked all eight trap sites." He paused and rubbed his knuckles across his bearded chin. "We found Brian."

 _Brian_. Carol shuffled through names and faces in her mind until she recalled him. Young guy, early 20's, strong, capable. Nice kid. Daryl had mentioned that he liked him.

"He was dead."

Carol's stomach clenched.

 _No_.

"What?" Maggie stood, shaking her head, the tremble of her body only noticed by a keen eye.

"He was strung up in a tree – all of his limbs -" Rick closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, "all of his limbs were cut from his body."

That familiar feel of bile churned, rising in Carol's throat. Walkers didn't string people up and cut off their appendages. This was the handiwork of men. Men who had resorted to a very primal and malicious way of survival in this world they all now lived in.

"The others?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice steady, calm.

Rick met her eyes and her blood coiled at the fear-laced confusion she saw there. "There was no sign of them," he said, his words gruff with emotion. "There had been a struggle, but the trail grew cold."

Grew cold? There was no way in hell Daryl would allow a trail to grow cold. He knew they would track him if he ever went missing, had been the one to teach Rick and her  _how_  to track. No – he would definitely not allow the trail to grow cold, which meant...

Her heart screamed. _Not Daryl – please!_

She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Daryl was just fine.

"Why are we still here? Let's get back out there," Maggie moved toward the door, urgent, desperate.

"Maggie, you know we can't," Rick said, grabbing her arm. "It's too dark. We'd accomplish nothing, it's the only reason we came in."

It was true, as much as Carol wanted to rush out and search as well, she knew no ground would be gained if they were unable to see. They would be vulnerable to the elements, an easy meal for the walkers and even worse, sitting ducks for these people who had butchered Brian and likely captured Daryl, Glenn and the others.

Maggie ran a frustrated hand through her hair. Her eyes were large and held a dangerous edge. "We leave at first light."

Rick's eyes darted from Maggie to Michonne and back over to Carol, "I'm not sure that is wise-"

"We  _all_  leave at first light," Carol interjected. Her tone steel and leaving no room for any of Rick's half-assed arguments.

She was going to find Daryl and not a damn thing was going to stop her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts or theories.


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